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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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shelf ..JLsgrjsy 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






































































































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No. 1 8. 


January 7th, 1892. 


Price, 25 Cents. 


The Popular Series 

Issued Monthly. 



THE YOUNG 
CASTAWAYS 

By Leon Lewis. 


Single Numbers 25 Cents. 

By Subscription , (12 Nos.) $3 per Annum. 


ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

NEW YORK. 


Watered at the Post Office at New York , N Y., as Second Class Mail Matter. 


THE 

NEW YORK LEDGER. 

The Illustrated National Family 
Journal of To-day. 


A Great Quantity and Variety of Reading. 

r PHE enlarged size of the Ledger in its new form enables the 
1 publishers to give such an extensive variety of reading 
matter that every number contains something of interest to every 
member of the household. 


r PHE following table of contents gives only a slight outline of 
1 the rich and varied contributions to the Ledger from the 
pens of the most distinguished writers: 


Novels of American Life, 
Novels of Foreign Travel, 
Novels of Southern Society, 
Novels of Adventure, 

Novels of Metropolitan Life, 
Short Stories 
Popular Sketches, 

Short Articles, 

Stories of Adventure* 
Popular Information, 
Household Advice, 

Popular 


The Woman’s World, 
Biographical Sketches, 
Explorations, 
Humorous Anecdotes, 
Poems and Ballads, 
Natural History, 

Home Culture, 

Health Suggestions, 
Principles of Etiquette, 
Articles of Travel, 
Historical Sketches, 
Miscellany. 


T 


"'HIS is a variety from which all can make a pleasing selection 
every week; and, furthermore, it is ample testimony to the 


great merit and value of the coming volume. 


Illustrated Souvenir Numbers. 

I ^ROM week to week, the Ledger will be filled with the illustra- 
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The LEDGER is issued weekly, and the subscription 
price is only $2 a year. Send Money Order, Regis- 
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Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York City. 


GLORIA 


51 2Gml. 


BY 

MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH. 

Author of “ The Hidden Hand ,” “ The Unloved Wife ,” 

“ Lilith,” “Unknown,” “A Leap in the Dark,” 
“Nearest and Dearest,” “For Woman's 
Love,” “ The Lost Lady of Lone,” 

“David Lindsay,” etc., etc . 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. A. CARTER. 


12mo. 348 Pages. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


The heroine of this novel is one of the most interesting of Mrs. 
Southworth’s charming girls. She is almost as good as Capitola, 
the delightful madcap of “The Hidden Hand.” Her perfect 
naturalness and gayety are so winning that no one can read her 
history without loving her. The story is full of the charm of 
unsophisticated girlhood and womanhood. We are not claiming 
too much when we say that Mrs. Southworth is one of the most 
engaging writers of fiction that this country has produced. Her 
novels have a larger circulation among the people than those 
of any other American writer. She has the gift of making her 
stories interesting, and filling them with pleasant incidents and 
characters, so that when the reader has finished one he wants 
to take up another. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


DAVID LINDSAY 


% Sequel to “ (Gloria.” 


BY 

MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH, 

Author of “ The Hidden Hand,” “ The Unloved Wife ,” 

“ Lilith,” “ Unknown,” “A Leap in the Dark,” 

“ Nearest and Dearest,” i( For Woman's 
Love,” “ The Lost Lady of Lone,” 

“ Gloria ,” etc., etc . 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. A. CARTER. 

12mo. 466 Pages. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 

In “ David Lindsay,” Mrs. Southworth has given a beautiful 
sequel to her charming novel “Gloria.” The characters are 
ripened by trial and experience, and the continuation of their 
history is full of engrossing interest. There are a greater variety 
of incident and richer growth of character in this novel than in 
“Gloria,” but the two should be read in connection in order 
fully to appreciate them both. The illustrations, by Mr. F. A. 
Carter, are admirable, and add much to the attractiveness of the 
book. 

F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


t I 


THE YOUNG CASTAWAYS 


i 



Works by 

LEON LEWIS. 

KIT CARSON’S LAST TRAIL. 
Popular Series, No. 4. Paper 
cover. Price, 25 cents. 

THE SERF LOVERS OF SI- 
BERIA. Popular Series, No. 16. 
Paper cover. Price, 25 cents. 

THE YOUNG CASTAWAYS. 
Popular Series, No. 18. Paper 
cover. Price, 25 cents. 


THE YOUNG CASTAWAYS 


21 J'TodcI. 


BY 

Leon Lewis, 

ai 





/ 


NEW YORK: 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

*\ PUBLISHERS. 


THE POPULAR SERIES : ISSUED MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE, THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO. 18^ 
JANy^RY 7, 1892. ENTERED THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER, 



,/V 4 
A ^ 







Copyright, 1874 ami 1891, 

BY ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


( All rights reserved .) 





THE YOUNG CASTAWAYS. 


CHAPTER I. 

A MYSTERIOUS YOUNG COUPLE. 


T the dead of a winter’s night, the 
brig Emerald , from New Orleans, 
was caught in a sudden and blinding 
snow-squall, while attempting Bos. 
ton harbor, and dashed in pieces 
upon one of the bleak shores to the 
northward of that port. 

It was at first believed that every 
soul on board the ill-fated vessel had 
perished. A report to this effect 
was even telegraphed to the metropolis, and thence 
transmitted throughout the country to the newspapers. 
But this was a mistake. 

The morning succeeding the disaster, it was found 
that one Dickerill, an old fisherman residing near the 
scene, had saved a couple of children from the wreck— 

[ 7 ] 




8 


The Young Castaways . 


a boy and a girl, who were judged to be twins, and to 
have entered their third year. Dickerill had found 
them lashed to a fragment of one of the brig’s boats, 
unconscious, nearly drowned — in the last stages of 
exhaustion, in fact — and he and Mrs. Dickerill “ had 
had all the trouble in the world to bring ’em to,” he 
said, which busy cares accounted for the ignorance con- 
cerning the rescue in which he had been compelled for 
some hours to leave his neighbors. 

The discovery that two such diminutive personages 
had been saved, when so many strong men had perished, 
produced a great sensation along the whole coast. 

How had it happened ? 

Who were the young couple ? Whence had they 
come and whither were they going ? What were their 
names, parentage, and history ? 

These questions were unanswerable. And because 
they were unanswerable, speculation was all the more 
busy with them. 

The agent of the Boston consignee, who arrived upon 
the ground during the forenoon, brought lists of the 
passengers and crew, which had been forwarded in due 
course of mail from New Orleans by the very careful 
owners, but no families with children figured upon 
either of these records. The lost skipper had been an 
unmarried man. The brig had carried a stewardess 
and a couple of female servants — these latter in the 
service of a wealthy and well-known Creole family — 
but not the least mention of children was forthcoming. 
It was conjectured that the couple might have been 
picked up at sea, or that they had been brought aboard 
of the brig just as she was leaving port, and it was 
further supposed that the vessel’s log might have 
thrown some light upon them, but the log had been 


A Mysterious Young Couple . 


9 


lost, and so they found themselves enveloped in a cloud 
of impenetrable mystery. 

Who were they, therefore ? Everybody asked the 
question, and everybody gave speculations for 
answers. 

Perhaps a stranger who made a flying visit from 
Boston to the spot during the afternoon could have 
thrown some light on the matter, for he was very 
critical in his contemplation of the children, and very 
searching in his questions respecting them, demanding 
the particulars of their rescue, the facts respecting their 
rescuer, the measures that would probably be taken 
concerning them, and noting especially the various 
surmises which took the place of information in regard 
to them. But this stranger, on being in turn ques- 
tioned, declared that he was simply a reporter for a 
daily journal of the metropolis, and soon after took an 
abrupt departure. 

A portion of the brig’s cargo was saved during the 
next few days, and such of her dead passengers and 
sailors as were washed ashore were duly buried, but 
nothing arrived to throw any light upon the two chil- 
dren. That their parents had been aboard the brig was 
theorized as a matter of course, but this theory received 
a rude shock when the owners telegraphed from New 
Orleans that none of the families lost in the brig had 
been blessed with any such children. 

And thus the mystery enveloping the young couple 
became darker than ever. 

“ We don’t even know what their names are,” said 
Dickerill, in a general audience of his neighbors, a 
couple of weeks after the disaster. 

“ Nor even if they have been baptized,” returned Mr. 
Gilbert, the pastor of the solitary little church at the 
nearest four-corners. “ And for this reason we shall 


IO 


The Young Castaways , 


have to name them. Let me have your views, friends. 
What shall we call them ?” 

“ Jared and Jemimy — after my uncle and aunt,” 
suggested a prominent person in the crowd, a Mr. 
Spareman, who occupied one of the finest farms in the 
neighborhood. 

“ Jared and Jemimy what ?” asked Mrs. Spareman, 
quickly, as she turned away from the children and 
drew her arms akimbo. “ You don’t mean to call them 
castaways after us, Joshua ?” 

“ No, Jerushy,” replied Spareman. “ As they came 
from the sea, let 'em be called Seaborn — J ared and 
Jemimy Seaborn.” 

Mr. Gilbert shook his head slowly. 

“ I don’t like to call them after anybody, Mr. Spare- 
man,” he said. “ The names we are about to bestow 
are merely provisional, of course — merely for use until 
their real names are discovered. I like Seaborn well 
enough, but instead of the names of your uncle and 
aunt, Mr. Spareman, I would suggest Archibald and 
Elgie, after nobody in particular, and merely for use 
until the real names of the children are discovered.” 

The proposal of the reverend gentleman was at once 
adopted, and the children were duly baptized as Archi- 
bald and Elgie Seaborn. 

“ The boy seems to have been dressed better than the 
gal,” observed a curious old matron present. “ I don’t 
believe they are brother and sister.” 

“ Oh, yes, they are, Nancy,” responded another of 
the town’s gossips. “ I should know ’em anywheres to 
be twins — they have such a family resemblance.” 

“ And especially in their hair and eyes,” chimed in a 
third wondering matron. “ As to the better clothes on 
the boy, that is all nonsense. The clothes are no 


A Mysteriotts Young Couple. 


1 1 


better, and it wouldn’t signify the least thing if they 
were, considering.” 

“You’ve all seen the locket and chain on the gal’s 
neck, I suppose,” exclaimed Mrs. Spareman, who had 
been busying herself again with the children. “ P’r’aps 
that locket will tell some of you suthin !” 

But it didn’t. Not so much as an initial could be 
found upon it. 

“ The bauble may restore the child to her kindred 
some day,” suggested the clergyman. “ That is the 
most we can hope for, as her parents doubtless perished 
in the wreck. In the meantime, we must provide for 
the poor things. Mrs. Dickerill does not feel able to 
retain charge of them longer. Who will be foremost in 
this matter ?” 

A dead silence followed the question. 

“I mean for the present, of course,” added the 
minister, “ and until their friends are heard from, 
or until some definite action can be taken in the 
premises !” 

The ominous silence continued. Nobody seemed in 
a hurry to take charge of the unknown waifs who had 
been so singularly thrust upon them. 

“ What ! has nobody pity upon these poor creatures ?” 
demanded Mr. Gilbert, as he looked around reproach- 
fully upon his parishioners. “ Why can’t you take 
charge of them, brother Spareman ?” 

Mr. Spareman flushed and moved uneasily, his eyes 
seeking the ga#e of his wife. 

“ I don’t know why you should ask me to burden my- 
self with ’em,” he answered, “ any sooner than you’d 
ask anybody else.” 

“ I wouldn’t take charge of ’em for anything !” 
declared Mrs. Spareman, flatly. 


12 


The Young Castaways . 


“And why not, pray?” asked the parson. “Yon 
have no children of your own, yon know.” 

Mrs. Spareman flushed angrily. 

“ Well, if I have no children of my own,” she returned, 
“it isn’t for you to twit me about it, Parson Gilbert, for 
you ha\e none yourself !” 

The clergyman heaved a deep sigh. 

“ Will no good soul take charge of these poor chil- 
dren ?” the minister continued. 

Still that profound silence. 

“ Be it so,” added Mr. Gilbert, sadly. “ I will take 
charge of them myself.” 

He did so. 

But Mrs. Gilbert was sickly and none too self- 
sacrificing, and when it became probable that no inquiry 
was being made for the children by rich friends or 
relatives — when repeated answers came from the 
owners of the lost brig that no clue to the mystery of 
the waifs could be obtained from any quarter — she grew 
weary with her labors, and shamed and entreated one 
of her neighbors into giving her a resting-spell. From 
the house of this neighbor the unfortunate children 
passed through several houses in rapid succession, 
including the houses of Mr. and Mrs. Spareman ; but 
this last exceptional favor was naturally a presage of 
misfortune, and from the house of the Sparemans the 
two little waifs were removed to the poor-house. 

“ The poor-house is really the place for ’em, after all, 
now that it is clear no one will ever come for ’em,” said 
Mrs. Spareman. “ It’s only right that the care and 
trouble of them young uns should be divided among 
the whole town.” 

The remark served as a sort of funeral oration over 
the children. From that hour forward they lived for- 
gotten and unnoticed. 


A Mysterious Young Couple . 


13 


In the providence of God, however, it matters little 
where and how the early years of any human being are 
accomplished, if the real stuff is in him. So it proved in 
the case of our hero and heroine. They grew and waxed 
strong — mentally, morally and physically. Not that they 
were in a good school for any of these developments, but 
merely that the mercy of Heaven, as shown in their 
preservation from the waves, continued to rest upon 
them. 

When they had reached their eighth year, as near as 
could be calculated, they were as bright and sweet and 
lovable as any two children that ever existed. 

But an evil hour had sounded for them. 

“ This 'ere boy must be bound out to a trade," decided 
Mr. Spareman, who had become one of the selectmen 
of his town, “ and that there gal must find a home 
with a good lady where she can be brought up properly. 
Neither of 'em must be a charge to the town no 
longer." 

The fates had spoken ! The evening of the day on 
which that decision was reached, found the two children 
miles from each other. 

What agonies that first separation caused them ! The 
temporary interest which had been felt in them at their 
first advent into the town was revived by their distress 
upon this occasion. 

“ Poor things !" said several persons. 

And then all was said. 

Bound out to a butcher, who worked him like a slave, 
Arty Seaborn — as everybody called him — entered upon 
a period of his career that was truly lamentable. The 
“ trade" he was learning was not merely a horror and 
an abomination to him, but his employer was one of 
those brutal, avaricious task-masters, who regard their 
apprentices as having no rights they are bound to 


n 


The Young Castaways . 


respect. The only schooling allowed Arty was a few 
weeks in midwinter, and for even this favor he was 
obliged to make amends by long hours of toil every 
morning and evening. His lot was scarcely better than 
that of a Hebrew under the task-masters of Egypt. 

But the situation of Elgie was not a bit better than 
that of her supposed brother. From one task-mistress 
to another, she had soon drifted into the hands of Mrs. 
Spareman, who had at last been blessed with a family, 
and who had promptly reached a conclusion that Elgie 
would be very handy in taking care of the Spareman 
progeny. To lug these human cubs about the house 
all the day long seemed to Mrs. Spareman the most 
natural of duties for the poor girl, and hardly an hour 
passed in which she was not subjected to coarse abuse 
from the tongue of her task-mistress, not to mention the 
blows and cuffs which were so frequently showered 
upon her. 

A couple of years had thus been passed in separate 
spheres by our hero and heroine, when a strange rumor 
excited the dreary hamlet into which they had been 
cast. 

It was said that an inquiry had been made for the 
young couple ; that a dark -faced man had come from 
afar to make inquiries about the loss of the Emerald ; 
that this stranger had been seen walking in a lonely 
spot with Mr. Spareman, at a late hour of the night, 
and conversing earnestly with him ; and that the dark- 
faced visitor had then vanished as mysteriously as he 
had come. 

Interrogated about this rumor, Mr. Spareman said it 
was all a lie, and grew so angry at all pressure of the 
subject that his denials were soon generally accepted, 
and nothing more was said of the rumored visit. 

The older the young couple grew the keener became 


i5 


A Mysterious Young Coitpc'e. 


their dissatisfaction with their lot, and their sense of 
the degradation and cruelty to which they were sub- 
jected, and before Arty had entered his thirteenth year, 
he had arrived at the great door of deliverance which 
so naturally presents itself to a young lad of spirit beset 
by a great trouble. 

He resolved to run away. 

Within a few days after reaching this resolve, the 
boy’s plans were so well matured that he fixed the 
evening and hour in which he would turn his back upon 
his employer forever. 

He was off punctually at the moment appointed, set- 
ting out at an hour when he was supposed to be asleep 
in his loft at the butcher’s. 

How naturally his steps turned toward Elgie ! 

Until now he had kept his resolution from her, but 
he could not go forth into the great world without bid- 
ding her farewell. 

In due course he was under the gable window which 
lighted her narrow apartment and called her name softly. 
He was sure she would be awake, and he was not mis- 
taken. Her curly head soon appeared at the window, 
and her wondering eyes looked down upon him. 

“ Come down here, Elgie,” he called. 

“ I do not know as I can,” she faltered. 

“ You must come !” 

The girl disappeared from the window, and a long 
interval of silent anxiety followed, but at last she 
emerged from the house unnoticed. A thrill shook Arty 
as he received her in his arms and noticed how much 
she had changed during the few days in which he had 
been revolving his project and in which he had remained 
away from her. Her face was pale and thin, her eyes 
unnaturally large and restless. She seemed almost like 
a spirit. 


i6 


The Young Castaways . 


“ I expected 7011/' she murmured, as she clung to him, 
panting and trembling. 

“ Expected me ?” asked Arty, as he drew her away 
from the house. 

“ Yes. I knew something terrible was about to hap- 
pen ! You have run away !” 

The lad was not a little discountenanced by this 
reception. 

“ It is true, Elgie !” he soon admitted. “ I will stand 
that sort of thing no longer !” 

His eyes gleamed, and his face glowed with gloomy 
and unrestful courage, as he shook his clenched hand in 
the direction from which he had come. 

“ And where are you going ?” 

“ God alone knows where, but far away from here — to 
Boston or New York, perhaps — and even further than 
that !” 

She girl shuddered at the sweep of the youth’s hand. 
It indicated that vast ocean which had already been so 
fatal to them. 

“ You mean to be a sailor ?” she faltered. 

“ What else can I be ?” 

A few moments of silence succeeded — a silence broken 
only by the panting sobs of the couple — and then the 
arms of Elgie encircled Arty’s neck more closely. 

“Oh, take me with you !” she pleaded. 

“ Impossible !” returned Arty, standing up bravely to 
what he supposed to be a manly view of the situation. 
“ How can I take a little girl like you with me ? But I 
will make myself rich, Elgie, and then come for you !” 

The girl burst into a violent fit of weeping. It was 
several minutes before she could control her voice, but 
she finally said, with forced calmness : 

' “ If you leave me here, Arty, you will never see me 


A Mysterious Young Couple . 


17 


again. I am dying every minute 1 stay here — dying by 
inches. Feel my arms and look in my face.” 

Arty Seaborn realized only too clearly the truth of 
Elgie’s declaration. His frame shook now like the 
leaves of an aspen. His eyes had a fixed and stony 
stare, as if he perceived a dreadful horror looming up 
before him. 

“ Oh, I know they are killing you,” he whispered. 
“ But what can I do ? Whither can I take you ? We 
haven't a friend in the world.” 

“ True, but perhaps we can find one. Oh, do not leave 
me here, Arty ! They act as if they wanted me to die. 
Mr. Spareman gives me queer medicines. I overheard 
him tell Mrs. Spareman yesterday that he would obtain 
thousands of dollars if anything should happen to me.” 

Arty was dumb with horror. All his blood receded 
from his cheeks. 

“ Mr. Spareman must know who we are !” he 
breathed, excitedly. “ There must be truth in that 
story of the midnight visitor. But where can I take 
you, Elgie ?” 

“ Anywhere ! anywhere ! So long as it is away from 
this place ! So long as I am with you, Arty !” 

Looking down into her anguished eyes and kissing 
her tenderly, Arty stroked her soft hair a few moments 
in silence, and then whispered : 

“ Come, then ! Bundle up warmly, and cornel” 


CHAPTER II. 



\ ■; , 

A BAD START IN THE WORLD. 

With what wild joy and relief did Elgie return to her 
apartment ! 

Her baggage was as light as her preparations were 
brief. She paused in her room only long enough to 
put on her thickest shoes, and secure her cloak and 
bonnet, and a few trifles she especially valued. Then 
she assured herself by listening at the door of their 
bed-room, that Mr. and Mrs. Spareman were asleep. 

“We ought to have something to eat/' was the girl’s 
thought. “ I wonder if I can reach the pantry — and if 
there’s anything to eat in it.” 

To think of food was to try to secure it. She had 
eaten scarcely a mouthful during the day, and she now 
realized only too well that she would not be able to 
maintain her strength for any length of time without 
suitable nourishment. To her surprise and joy, she 
found some cold meats and biscuits in the pantry, and 
lost no time in making a neat package of the best that 
came to her hand. 

Thus equipped, she again stole from the house in 
silence, and hastened to the spot where the boy was 
waiting. 

“ You are fully decided to go with me, Elgie?” he 
asked gravely. 

“ Fully !” 

[18] 


A Bad Start in the World. 


T 9 


“ Then may you never regret it !” 

“ I never shall ! With you by my side, Arty, ary 
place in the world will be pleasant. We are not mere 
children now, Arty ! We have had a great deal of ex- 
perience, and will surely be able to get our own living !” 

The boy heaved a deep sigh*. He was old enough to 
comprehend the peril and difficulty of the path upon 
which they were about to enter. 

The girl trembled again. 

“ Surely, you don’t wish me to stay here, Arty, after 
what I have told you ?” she faltered. 

“ No, Elgie, that is impossible ! I must certainly go 
and you must as certainly go with me ! We must run 
away together ! Come.” 

Drawing her trembling arm within his own, he led 
her away at a smart pace, with many a feverish glance, 
behind him. Not another word passed between them 
until they reached the great shore-road leading to the 
metropolis. 

“All continues still behind us,” then said Arty. 
“ But they will pursue us if they miss us !” 

“Yes, and they may miss us at any moment!” 
returned Elgie. “ Mrs. Spareman calls me up almost 
every night to look after her worrying children. What 
if she should be calling me now !” 

The mere thought was a terror, and the couple sped 
on their way rapidly. The hour was already so late 
that not a soul save themselves seemed stirring. Only 
an occasional gleam of light was visible in the great 
solitude around them. 

Their first alarm was at a farm house, where a for- 
midable dog placed himself in their path and barked at 
them furiously. But the boy promptly planted a stone 
in the dog’s side that sent him away howling, and the 


20 


The Young Castaways. 


couple passed on their way so swiftly that their identity 
was not discovered. 

Their next alarm was occasioned by the approach of 
a wagon, but they hid themselves by the roadside until 
it had passed, and then trudged on as resolutely as 
ever. 

“ I have more than twenty dollars,” said Arty, sud- 
denly, breaking a long silence. 

“ And I have nearly five,” said Elgie. 

“ Indeed !” cried the boy, contentedly. “ Between us, 
then, we shall not have the least difficulty in paying 
our way to Boston, and for a long time after we arrive 
there.” 

“ If we can only get there before Mr. Spareman finds 
us !” supplemented the girl, with a profound sigh. 
“ Where shall we stay to-night — when we can travel no 
further, I mean ?” 

“ Somewhere by the roadside, no doubt,” replied Arty, 
cheerfully. “ Perhaps in some barn or shed, or perhaps 
in some hay-stack. We can be comfortable almost 
anywhere if it does not rain, the night is so warm.” 

For nearly an hour they thus trudged hopefully 
onward, meeting with no serious adventures. Many 
were the comforting assurances they exchanged by -the 
way, and many the bright hopes and plans they formed 
for the future. At the end of the time indicated they 
seated themselves by the roadside to rest, refreshing 
themselves with a few morsels of food and with a drink 
of cold water from a convenient rivulet. 

By this time had ceased the nervous flutterings 
with which they had entered upon their flight, and they 
had brought themselves to look upon their situation with 
a coolness and philosophy and sense which did them the 
greatest credit. 

“ There must be an opening somewhere for a pair of 


A Bad Start in the World. 


21 


stout hands like mine !” breathed Arty, as he drew 
Elgie’s cloak close around her slight figure and held her 
to his heart. 

“And for a pair of willing ones like mine !” returned 
the girl, with a cheerfulness and courage that astonished 
her companion. “ Perhaps you have not thought what 
a great girl I am getting to be, Arty. And once away 
from Mrs. Spareman’s, I shall soon be a great deal 
stronger than you have ever seen me !” 

“ I do not doubt it,” affirmed our hero. “All you 
want is the fresh air and sunshine, enough to eat, and 
not too much to do ! I dare say we shall find a home 
in some good family in the course of to-morrow or next 
day, and that henceforth we can always live together !” 

“ Oh, I hope so !” sighed Elgie, as she nestled close to 
Arty’s protecting arm. “ Let us never again be sep- 
arated for a day if we can help it. I feel that in all the 
wide world I have only you to live for, and without you 
the whole world is a prison and a desert.” 

Until that hour Arty had not dreamed that such 
assurances were so pleasant to him, or that Elgie could 
say them so sweetly. For several minutes he sat as if 
enraptured, and he did not doubt that Elgie’s content- 
ment was equal to his own. 

“We must not stay here too long,” he finally whis- 
pered, arising. “We ought to travel several miles fur- 
ther before we make a final halt for the night. Besides, 
if we stay here too long without shelter we shall be 
likely to take cold.” 

Elgie was in motion before these remarks were con- 
cluded, and for another long interval the couple pressed 
forward resolutely upon the road they had taken. 
Many miles of distance had now been left between them 
and the residence of the Sparemans, but still they con- 
tinued their course. 


22 


The Young Castaways . 


“ How tired you must be !” at length murmured Arty, 
with a thrill of affectionate admiration. 

Elgie made some incoherent reply, but without the 
least abatement of her cheerfulness. She would not 
yet confess how weary she was and how painfully her 
limbs trembled beneath her. 

“ We shall have to halt soon,” said the boy, who com- 
prehended only too clearly from his own feelings what 
must be those of his companion. “ We must stop at 
the first good place that offers/’ 

“ I dare say we shall find friends by the way,” 
avowed Elgie. “ It cannot be that any one will harm 
us.” 

“ The fear is that they may overtake us before we 
reach Boston,” said Arty. “ I have often told Mr. Blud- 
gett that I have a horror of being a butcher, and he 
has as often told me that he would skin me alive if I 
should ever dare to run away from him.” 

“ We must take care that they don’t find us,” said 
Elgie. “ Should they pursue us — hark !” 

They halted abruptly and listened. 

The rumbling of a heavy wagon furiously driven was 
heard behind them. 

“ It is Mr. Spareman !” breathed Elgie. 

“Or the butcher!” ejaculated Arty. “Our flight is 
discovered. They are after us. We must hide.” 

The fugitives had scarcely secured a satisfactory 
cover by the roadside when a wagon sped swiftly past 
them. A single grim figure was sitting bolt upright in 
the vehicle, and the runaways both recognized it at 
once, despite the darkness, as the figure of Mr. Spare- 
man. 

“ How fast he rides !” whispered Arty, as the noise 
of the wagon gradually died out in the distance. “ He’s 
certainly determined to find us !” 


A Bad Start in the World. 


23 


“ But he won't very readily — if he keeps on in that 
direction !” murmured Elgie, scornfully. 

“No, for he shall have all the road to himself/’ 
declared the boy. “ It is now as dangerous for us to go 
forward as to go back, and we’ll accordingly do neither, 
but turn into the nearest cross-road and hunt up a good 
halting-place for the night. You cannot travel much 
farther, I suppose ?” 

Elgie hung her head regretfully, as she replied : 

“ I fear that I cannot !’ 

u Fortunately the cross-road is not far away. We will 
soon be safe upon it.” 

Assisting the girl all he could, Arty led the way to 
the road in question. The couple had not gone far 
upon it when they remarked that the air had suddenly 
freshened. 

“ We are not far from the sea,” whispered our hero. 
“ Suppose we go on until we come to it ?” 

“ Just as you say !” 

For several minutes they pressed forward in weary 
silence, heedless of the darkness and solitude, and then 
they found themselves upon a considerable promontory, 
from which they could look far out upon the grim and 
troubled waters. 

“Yes, here’s the sea — the Atlantic, of course?” 
exclaimed Elgie, as the couple came to a halt. 

“Yes, this is the Atlantic !” 

“ What a lonely spot ; Have you ever been here 
before, Arty ?” 

“ Never !” 

“ Then you don’t know just where we are !” 

“ No, not exactly. I only know that we are some- 
where on the sea-coast, many miles from Mr. Spare- 
man’s !” 

The girl tottered wearily in her tracks. 


24 


The Young Castaways . 


“ Oh ! I can go no further !” she panted, as she sank 
upon the ground. “ How tired I am! I had no idea of 
it until this moment !” 

“ Your arm has long been trembling in mine, Elgie, 
and your steps have long been tottering. But we have 
reached a spot which seems lonely enough to serve us as 
a refuge, and I dare say we can find a fish-house or a hut 
of some kind hereabouts to creep into. I hope you are 
not sorry you came ?” 

“ Sorry ? Oh, I should have died if you had left me 
behind you. Whatever may be our destiny, Arty, I 
shall be happy if I but share it with you !” 

Gratefully pressing the hand he held, the boy looked 
around in every direction, listening intently. 

A little cove at the base of the promontory at once 
attracted his attention, and among the adjacent rocks 
he saw a couple of fisher-cabins. 

“We may find shelter there,” he said, when he had 
called the girl’s attention to these surroundings, “ but 
how much more comfortable we can be in those close and 
dirty dens than in the open air, I leave you to imagine.” 

“ Had we better ask for shelter ?” demanded the girl. 
“ Will not the fisherman give us up to Mr. Spareman, 
either at once or to-morrow ?” 

“ It looks likely enough.” 

Both shuddered at the thought. 

“ In any case we will take a closer look at the huts, if 
you are not too tired,” said Arty. “All is still there. 
We have only to be cautious, and no one will discover 
our presence.” 

He assisted Elgie to her feet, supporting her with 
tender care, and they descended to the cove together. 

“ Yonder is a boat !” suddenly whispered the girl, 
quickening her steps. “ It is out of the water. Perhaps 
there is a snug nest for us in it.” 


A Bad Start in the World. 


25 


The boat was one of those little open sloops with which 
everybody is familiar. 

The couple were soon beside it. 

“You are right,” murmured Arty, after examining 
the craft as well as he could in the cold, gray shadows. 
“ There is a little cabin forward under the mast, and you 
can see at a glance how neatly the sail will cover us. 
It will even keep us from getting wet, if it should rain. 
Suppose we stay here until morning ?” 

“ It’s the only thing we can do,” returned Elgie, 
wearily. “ I’ve walked as far as I can. My feet must 
be blistered.” 

“ We won’t ask for shelter at the huts, then ?” 

“No, no? They will give us up to Mr. Spareman. 
Let us rest here till daylight, and go away before any 
one sees us.’ 

The situation of affairs was discussed at full length, 
but the result was inevitable. The couple took posses- 
sion of the boat, made themselves as comfortable as 
possible in the little hole under the half deck, and were 
soon fast asleep. 

The tide was already coming in. The beach being 
flat, the water extended itself shoreward rapidly. The 
little craft was soon half afloat. 

Just then there arrived on the beach the swiftly- 
moving figure of a man, who sent comprehensive glances 
of inquiry in every direction around him. 

This man was Spareman. 

“ They must be somewhere in this neighborhood,” he 
said to himself. “ Their tracks, where they turned off 
from the main-road, were plain enough. They may 
have taken refuge in one of these huts, or possibly in 
this boat. Ah !” 

He had reached the side of the boat whilst thus com- 


26 


The Young Castaways. 


muning with himself, and the low, regular breathing of 
the couple now fell upon his hearing. 

“ Yes, there they are !” he muttered. 

A full minute the lone observer stood motionless and 
thoughtful, bending a long glance in every direction 
around him — marking the rising tide, the silent huts 
adjacent, the noisy waves seaward, and the lowering 
face of the heavens. And while he thus gazed and 
reflected, a demoti-like exultation swiftly mantled his 
dark features. 

“ There is going to be a lively old squall,” he said to 
himself, as he held up his hand to the rising wind, and 
marked the ragged clouds scurrying above him. “No 
one knows that the children have come this way ; no 
one is looking. I have only to fasten them into their 
little den — so,” and he suited the action to the word. 
“ A single push and they are gone forever, and I shall 
be the richer by ten thousand dollars.” 

The tide had now risen so high that the boat nearly 
floated. A slight push, as Spareman comprehended, 
was all that was necessary to send it clear of the 
beach. For one brief instant the man hesitated, as if 
some remnant of humanity lingered in his breast, and 
then, by a swift movement, he sent the frail craft adrift. 
To unfasten and uncoil the rope which secured it to the 
shore was the work of another instant, and the wind and 
tide then took complete possession of it, bearing it away 
rapidly seaward. 

“ That ends them,” chuckled Spareman, as he turned 
away. “ The boat will fill as soon as it is out of the 
cove, but it's that famous unsinkable belonging to Nor- 
ridge, I see, and its owner is sure to find it in the 
morning, and all that’s in it ! The bodies ’ll be found 
in due course, as just the proofs I want in the case, and 
not a soul ’ll suspect that I’ve had the least share in the 


Arty's First Attempt at Navigation. 27 


business. Glorious ! This is a fine night's work for 
me !” 

And with this he stole hurriedly away inland, with a 
single farewell glance over his shoulder at the boat, 
which was being borne far out on the wild waters l 


CHAPTER III. 

arty's first attempt at navigation. 

From the deep slumbers into which he had fallen, 
Arty Seaborn was awakened by a lurch that threw him 
violently against the side of the little cuddy in which he 
and Elgie had taken refuge. 

“ That’s strange !” he ejaculated. 

He knew at once that the boat was moving. But 
why ? And whither ? 

Gathering himself up on one elbow, he endeavored to 
send an inquiring glance around him, when another 
lurch of the boat hurled him in the opposite direction, 
tumbling him unceremoniously against his companion. 

Two such lurches would have sufficed to enlighten 
even a dull comprehension. 

Arty took in the general situation of affairs on the 
instant. 

“ Awake, Elgie !” he cried, gathering himself up on all- 
fours, and shaking the girl. “ The boat is adrift.” 

Elgie started up directly. Her surprise and alarm 
can be imagined. 

“ Where are we, Arty ? What has happened ?” she 
demanded, wildly. 

“ The boat must have broken loose,” responded the 


28 


The Young Cctstaivays. 


boy, as he endeavored to open the little doors of the 
cuddy. “ Don’t you see that she is moving ?” 

An instant of the profoundest consternation followed. 
Neither Arty nor Elgie had ever trusted themselves a 
moment upon the sea, from the hour of the shipwreck 
which had been so fatal to them, so many years before, 
and hence a more inexperienced couple for their years 
it would have been next to impossible to discover. 

As surprised and alarmed as he was, however, Arty 
did not fail to act energetically. It was not without 
great difficulty that he undid the fastenings of the door, 
which Spareman had secured upon his intended victims, 
as will be remembered, but nothing could resist the 
lad’s desperate energy, and at the end of a brief 
struggle he crept out into the centre of the boat. 

The quickened apprehension he felt, as a shower of 
spray broke over him, produced a cry of wondering 
terror that called Elgie promptly to his side. 

In the first alarm of the moment, neither of them 
could see anything. The darkness had increased 
greatly since they took possession of the boat, the bay 
being now almost universally hidden by a canopy of 
clouds, and quite a mist having been swept up by a 
strong breeze from the surface of the sea. 

“ Do you see the shore ?” asked the girl, as she 
clung to the side of the boat. 

“ Yes, I see it,” answered Arty, as his eyes became 
more accustomed to the gloom. “ It is yonder — behind 
us !” 

The girl looked in horror. The two cliffs defining 
the entrance of the cove were visible, but fast receding 
in the shadows. The wind was blowing directly off 
shore, and had taken complete control of the boat, 
carrying it seaward with startling swiftness. 

It is no disparagement to our young heroine to say 


Arty s First Attempt at Navigation . 29 


that a flood of tears announced what she felt at that 
moment. .As to Arty, he was already as busy as a bee. 

The wind having caught the sail of the boat, which 
had been lowered in haste and left in a slovenly pile, 
there was a grand fluttering of canvas and sound of 
rigging, not to mention a dangerous rolling and plung- 
ing of the little vessel. As ignorant as he was of all 
nautical matters, the boy comprehended that he ought 
to keep the craft before the wind, and that he could do 
this only by making proper use of the helm. 

In another instant, therefore, he had thrown himself 
upon the tiller, and moved it sufficiently to bring the 
boat into the desired position. 

“ Now, Elgie,” he cried, “ if you will steer her, I will 
tie up that sail !” 

The girl could just see through the dense darkness 
the effect of the pressure Arty was giving the tiller, 
and her courage rose equal to the emergency. She 
was beside him in an instant. 

“ When she pokes her nose one way you must jerk it 
the other,” he explained, giving her a practical illustra- 
tion of the act — “ so ! Don’t you believe you can man- 
age it ?” 

“ I can try.” 

With this Elgie took the helm. 

The directions of our hero, it is safe to say, were not 
borrowed from any nautical treatise known to us, but 
they were none the less adequate to the occasion. He 
not only comprehended the essential principles in which 
lay his safety, but he quickly impressed these views 
upon Elgie, who seconded him with an ability which 
was as encouraging as surprising. 

“ There ! you can do it !” he exclaimed, after watch- 
ing the girl a few moments. “ When she does that ” — 
the boat was then yawning — “ you must move the helm 


30 


The Young Castaways . 


a little sooner and not quite so violently — so ! You are 
doing splendidly !” 

This praise was enough to inspire the girl in the task 
she had undertaken. Arty conceived such confidence 
in. her almost immediately that he felt at liberty to give 
his attention to the sail, which was now flapping more 
violently than ever. 

It was no slight task, as the craft was now experienc- 
ing the full strength of the squall, for the boy to master 
the sail, and two or three times he was almost swept 
overboard by the furious plunges it made, but he finally 
gathered its most troublesome expansions, and gradually 
reduced it to obedience, tying it up in such a compact 
bundle that it lay inert along the bottom of the boat. 
The mast still presented a grave inconvenience, its top 
making wide and swift sweeps at every plunge of the 
boat, but Arty comprehended that it might be broken 
short off without any instant peril, and he accordingly 
went back to Elgie with the conviction that the first 
great danger to which they had been exposed had been 
duly weathered. 

And the lad was right. 

In good truth, the couple had already outlived the 
limits Spareman had assigned them. 

The young couple were too inexperienced, of course, 
to realize how much they had done for themselves, in 
securing the sail and in getting the boat before the 
wind ; but as they noted how steadily they were going, 
and how little they were now disturbed or menaced by 
the wild convulsions of the wind and sea, they could 
not help feeling that their situation had mended greatly, 

“ You see nothing of the land now ?” breathed Elgie, 
anxiously, as the boy relieved her at the helm. 

“Nq — of course not/' answered Arty, wilh a calm 


Arty s First Attempt at Navigation . 31 


dignity worthy of the moment. “We are running 
directly away from it !” 

“ I have heard of ships running before the wind/ 
said Elgie. “ Is not that what we are now doing ?” 

“ The very thing !” 

“ It wouldn’t do for us to attempt to turn back — 
would it, Arty ?” 

“Do?” cried the young navigator of half an hour, as 
emphatically as if he had passed the whole of his short 
life at sea. “ Why, if we should attempt to turn back, 
we’d be caught between two of those big waves, and 
buried out of sight forever in an instant !” 

“ Then we must keep on just as we are now going?” 

“Certainly — just so long as the wind continues to 
blow so violently !” 

“ But are we not going straight out into the ocean, 
miles and miles from any land ?” 

“ Yes, Elgie ; but you need not be frightened at that,” 
said Arty, thoughtfully, “ The wind may not blow this 
way a great while — probably not more than a few hours. 
We may be able to turn back by morning.” 

“ Oh ! I hope so,” said Elgie. “ We have very little to 
eat, you know, and not a drop of water to drink. What 
will become of us if the wind should blow harder and 
harder for several days, and if we should have to keep 
going out further into the ocean ?” 

A cold chill ran over the boy’s frame as he listened to 
this question. 

“ Let us hope that the case won’t be so bad as that,” 
he replied. “ At the worst, we may be picked up by 
some vessel. You must have often looked out from the 
shore and seen lots of ships coming and going in every 
direction ?" 

A Of course — often.” 


32 


The Young Castaways . 


The couple were not a little comforted by this season- 
able recollection. 

“ I wish we had a compass,” murmured Elgie, after a 
considerable interval of silence, as she seated herself as 
closely as possible to Arty. “ Can we get along with- 
out one ?” 

“ We shall have to, of course, if we get along at all,” 
answered the boy with a sigh. “ Should to-morrow be 
cloudy it will be impossible for us to tell what course 
we ought to take, and perfectly useless for us to attempt 
to take any. But if the sun should be visible, we shall 
not have any difficulty in telling which direction is west. 
All we have to do is to keep the sun on the left hand in 
the forenoon, and more or less ahead — according to the 
hour — in the afternoon.” 

The girl was silent again, thinking what a brave and 
wise boy Arty was, and cherishing deep in her soul a 
thousand tender admirations for him. 

“ Perhaps some good will come to us from the sea, 
Arty — after so much evil,” she suddenly remarked, 
giving voice to her reveries. “ We may learn who we 
are, how we came to be shipwrecked in the Emerald , and 
all about our parents. Do you suppose we are brother 
and sister, Arty, as everybody seems to think ?” 

“ No, I don’t believe a word of it.” 

“ Then I shall be your wife some day, Arty.” 

“ Perhaps you will see somebody that you will like 
better,” suggested the boy, continuing to guide the boat 
with undaunted courage. 

“ Oh, never ! never !” 

“ How do you know you won’t ?” 

“ Because — because I know I sha’n’t. And if it should 
turn out that you are really my brother, I will keep 
house for you, and we will be ever so happy.” 


Arty s First Attempt at Navigation . 33 


“ You are not yet sorry you ran away, then ?” demand- 
ed the boy, still minding his helm. 

The fair, sweet face of the girl lighted strangely, as 
she responded : 

“ No ; and I never shall be. We are in great danger, 
Arty, I suppose, and it’s hard to say what will become 
of us, but I am not afraid to die, and I have not the 
least wish to live as I have been living. If I had all 
there is in the world, Arty, I should never forget that 
there is a brighter and better world than this, where 
there is neither danger nor sorrow, where there are no 
wicked people, no sickness, nothing <to make us unhappy, 
but where everything is grand and beautiful, and where 
all the men and women and boys and girls are angels 
Oh ! how often and often I have wished that we could 
die, Arty, and never be bothered any more with Mr. 
Bludgett and Mr. and Mrs. Spareman, but always be 
with each other in heaven.” 

“ I’ve often wished the same thing, Elgie,’ ! avowed the 
boy. “ But I do not feel so now. I feel now that I would 
like to grow up and be a man, and have a beautiful 
little home, with a horse and a cow, and live just like 
Mr. Garret and his wife, and like so many other happy 
people. Would it not be glorious ?” 

The girl’s eyes twinkled again. 

“ Oh, so grand !” she answered. 4< If we can only get 
out of this trouble, we will find a good place to work 
and save all our money, and in a few years buy or 
build a house that we will have all to ourselves !” 

A lorger silence than the previous ones now fell 
between the couple, for the reason that Arty was very 
busy at the helm, &nd that Elgie was absorbed in the 
bright pictures of the future she had allowed herself to 
cherish. The face of the ocean was now wrapped in 
the “ darkness which precedes the dawn,” and the squall 


34 


The Young Castaways . 


had reached its culmination, so that it was only by con- 
stant watchfulness and exertion that the lad could hold 
at bay the lively dangers by which he was menaced. 

But at last a dull, grayish light began breaking 
directly ahead, stealing right and left upon the horizon 
and creeping up toward the zenith. 

“ See !” cried Elgie, excitedly, after she had contem- 
plated the increasing radiance several minutes. “ It’s 
the beginning of morning !” 

“ Yes, it will soon be daylight !” returned Arty. 
“ The worst is over !” 

The gladness and relief with which the couple con- 
tinued to watch the illumination of the heavens can be 
readily imagined. After the darkness and peril of the 
long night they had traversed, the day was doubly 
welcome. 

“And I do believe the wind is going down/’ ex- 
claimed Elgie, after a long contemplation of the white 
crests around her. “ Are not the waves smaller ?” 

“Hardly — so soon,” replied the boy, “but there is 
certainly less wind. The day promises to be fine. You 
can almost see where the sun is going to rise out of the 
water !” 

“Yes, it’s where those gleams are shooting up so 
brightly into the sky,” returned Elgie. “ And see how 
light it is getting everywhere ! How far we can see ! 
And all around us water — nothing but water — not the 
least sign of land. How strange it seems to be here ! 
I hardly know whether to be afraid or to think that it 
is nice !” 

The first few minutes of the new day were devoted 
to an anxious search for a sail, but none was in sight. 
It seemed to the young couple that they were not 
merely alone upon the ocean, but that they were lost 
in its immensities. 


Arty's First Attempt at Navigation . 35 


“ How far do you suppose we are from the shore /” 
asked Elgie, suddenly. 

“ Thirty or forty miles at least !” 

“ Are not the waves getting smaller ? Shall we not be 
able to turn back before long ?” 

“ I mean to make the effort,” avowed Arty, gravely. 
“ In the meantime, suppose we have breakfast — a bite 
of the lunch you were so thoughtful as to bring with you 
from Mrs. Spareman’s !” 

The “ bite ” was taken — a very sparing one, for the 
couple realized only too clearly how insufficiently they 
were supplied with provisions. 

“ Thus far we have had an easy time of it,” observed 
the boy. “ When we face about we shall find everything 
different. But if we don’t put about soon, we shall not 
be able to reach the shore before dark ! And another 
night on the water is out of the question entirely !” 

These and various other considerations decided Arty 
upon putting about at the earliest possible moment, as 
keenly as he realized the difficult nature of that 
measure. 

“We cannot sail a rod shorewards, you know, without 
raising the sail,” he exclaimed. “As soon as we are 
faced the other way, you must take charge of the helm^ 
and I must draw up the sail and fasten this rope to the 
side of the boat.” 

He explained the proposed manoeuvre as clearly as 
possible to Elgie, and they then set about its execution. 
The boat was hove to, her prow rounding up into the 
wind as neatly as if Arty had passed all his life upon 
the sea, and then he relinquished the helm to Elgie, and 
began hoisting the sail. By the time it was half-extended^ 
the wind took hold of it sharply, and the boat began 
clearing the waters shoreward. 

“ You see !” cried Arty, “ we can manage it.” 


36 


The Young Castaways . 


Bending all his energies to the task, he soon had the 
sail fully hoisted and the sheet secured, and by this time 
the frail craft was moving upon her homeward course 
even more swiftly, apparently, than she had previously 
flown in the opposite direction. The pressure now 
brought upon the rudder was so great that the boy was 
obliged to fly to Elgie’s assistance. 

“ Perhaps we ought to have waited,” said he, ner- 
vously, as he marked the pressure upon sail and helm. 
“ And yet to wait was impossible. We must now do 
or die.” 

The result of these proceedings can already be foreseen 
by the intelligent reader. 

Unqualified for the task he had undertaken, the lad 
soon had his sail shivering in the wind, and before he 
could rectify his error, both helm and sail were taken 
aback. For one brief instant the stanch little craft stood 
up stiffly to the awful pressure put upon her, and then 
went over like a flash, turning bottom upward. 


♦ 

CHAPTER IV. 

ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS VISIT. 

Rejoicing in his evil work like a demon, Joshua Spare- 
man returned to the great shore road, where he had left 
his horse, chuckling as he went, and exhibiting in his 
footsteps an excitement akin to inebriation. Taking his 
seat in his wagon, he drove swiftly homewards. So 
perfectly did his nervous exhilaration transfer itself to 
his steed, through the medium of the whip, that in less 
than an hour after sending the young people adrift, he 


Another Mysterious Visit . 


37 


was again at his house, although he called by the way 
upon his family physician. 

He was not surprised to find his wife upon the front 
veranda and anxiously awaiting his coming, pacing to 
and fro with strides worthy of one of the King of 
Dahomey’s Amazonian warriors. 

“I have ordered the doctor to come as soon as he 
can,” was Sparemati’s first announcement, as he leaped 
from his wagon. 

“ The doctor ?” gasped Mrs. Spareman, recoiling, “ are 
you crazy, Joshua ? What do you want of the doctor ?” 

Spareman rubbed his hands quickly and noiselessly 
together, as was his wont in seasons of joyful excite- 
ment, and inclined his head close to his wife’s. 

“ I want the doctor to cover the proceedings of this 
night,” he whispered, in a voice too low to have reached 
any other ears than those for which it was intended. 
“ It may get abroad that I have made a small journey 
within two or three hours past, and it will not be bad 
for me to be able to give a good reason for my absence 
to any inquirer.” 

Mrs. Spareman comprehended at once. 

“ You are a genius, Joshua,” she muttered, as she led 
the way into the sitting-room. “Always as cautious as 
sharp. But what did you say ailed me ?” 

u I didn’t mention you, Jerushy, but merely told the 
doctor that one of the children had a sort of fit or attack 
of convulsions.” 

“ Good ! Then all I have to say to the doctor is that 
I brought the poor thing out of it long before your 
return, and then he will leave his usual powder or pill, 
after making a few inquiries, and vanish. But them 
runaways, Joshua — what of them runaways ? Have you 
found them ?” 

“ Yes, I have found them,” replied Spareman, with ill- 


38 


The Young Castaways . 


concealed jubilation. “ They took the shore road, as we 
supposed. Has Bludgett been back ?” 

“No. He said he’d make a thorough search in his 
neighborhood, and not see us again until morning. 
But the children, Joshua ? Where are they ?” 

“ Somewhere off the coast, in the form of shark-bait,” 
affirmed Spareman, joyously. “ Their sudden move has 
turned out a very good thing for us — very good, indeed. 
They have spared us the necessity of ever getting rid 
of them. In a word, they have got rid of themselves. 
Let me tell you just how the thing happened, Jerushy, 
and just how I’ve taken the bull by the horns.” 

Dropping into a chair, the heartless villain proceeded 
to detail the situation of the young couple, dwelling 
with infernal delight upon his own share in the infa- 
mous transaction. The amazement of Mrs. Spareman 
was excelled only by her pleasure. 

“ Is it possible,” she whispered, when her husband had 
concluded — “ is it possible you have sent them adrift 
upon the ocean ?” 

“ That’s jest where they are,” assured Spareman, with 
a savage joy. “ They are drowned long ago, but will 
be found in the morning. Ah, a footstep,” he added, 
arising. “ It’s the doctor, doubtless. Get rid of him 
while I put out the horse. Be sure to act your .part to 
perfection.” 

The horse was soon in his stall, and the husband and 
wife again together in the kitchen, the doctor having 
made his call even briefer than expected. The sub- 
ject nearest their hearts was at once resumed. 

“ If Mr. Runnel will only keep his word, we have 
made a good thing out of the business,” said Mrs. 
Spareman, drawing her chair close to her husband. 
“ But what if he should fail to keep his agreement ? 
What if he should deny all knowledge of us and of the 


Another Mysterious Visit. 


39 


children ? He may take that course to save paying us 
the ten thousand dollars. Isn't it possible ?” 

“ Yes, it's possible, but not probable,” declared Spare- 
man, with the deliberation of a deep conviction. “Grebb 
Runnel is a man of his word. I know him of old. 
What he might do if hard pushed for money, there’s no 
telling ; but Grebb is a man who knows how to keep his 
pocket book well-filled, and one who never goes back 
on a friend. He’ll keep his agreement, no doubt.” 

“ He ought to, certainly,” said Mrs. Spareman, 
emphatically, speaking half to herself. “ Goodness 
knows he was anxious enough to have them children 
out of the way. He wanted ’em to drop out of sight in 
a nateral sort o’ way, and what could be more nateral 
than for them young uns to run away together 
and be carried out to sea in a boat ? It all looks like an 
accident, and is just the sort of accident Runnel sug- 
gested.” 

A sudden grim sternness crept into Spareman’s eyes. 

“ Don’t fret yourself, Jerushy,” he said. “ Runnel will 
certainly pay. I know him too well — as long ago as I 
was trading on the west coast of Africa — for him to 
throw me overboard on a transaction of such import- 
ance. Oh ! he’ll settle fast enough, you may be certain.” 

The words had scarcely left his lips when there came 
a vigorous knock upon the outer door of the kitchen. 

The violence of the starts given by the couple can be 
imagined. Mrs. Spareman even turned deathly pale. 
It was not so much the lateness of the hour that 
rendered that knock startling, as the sinister conversa* 
tion and train of thought in which it found the evil- 
minded couple indulging. 

u Goodness ! who can it be ?” gasped the wife, the first 
to find her tongue. 

“Some neighbor, probably,” guessed Spareman. 


40 


The Young Castaways . 


The knock was repeated with fierce impatience. The 
couple both started again. 

“ That’s no neighbor,” whispered the wife. “ It’s 
somebody we don’t wish to see, no doubt. Possibly 
some constable ! Oh, you must have been seen, Joshua !” 

She wrung her hands anxiously. 

“ In that case, I’ll fight for it,” returned Spareman, as 
he carried his hand to a double-barrelled pistol concealed 
on his person. “ But don’t be frightened, Jerushy. I’ll 
see who it is.” 

Stepping quickly to the door, Spareman threw it wide 
open, with the energetic boldness of a man who defies 
the very worst that can possibly happen. With a step 
of corresponding promptness, a tall, muffled figure 
crossed the threshold, bowing alternately, with a care- 
less and indifferent sort of grace, to each of the persons 
before him. 

A single word burst from the lips of Spareman, and 
that word a name : 

“ Runnel !” 

The man advanced more into the light. 

“ Yes, I am Runnel,” he acknowledged, removing his 
hat and cloak. “ Glad to see you, Joshua. Your servant, 
madam. How do you all do ?” 

And he proffered a brawny hand to each. 

“ Goodness !” ejaculated Mrs. Spareman, as her eyes 
roved swiftly up and down the commanding form before 
her. “ So this is Mr. Runnel ? What a surprise you 
have given us !” 

“ Sit down, old boy,” cried Spareman, with a final 
hearty shake, as he placed a chair for his guest. “ This 
is indeed a surprise for us, as Jerushy says. We never 
should have thought of looking for you at such a late 
hour !” 


A not her Mysterious Visit . 


4i 


“ And yet I find you up,” said the guest, significantly, 
as he dropped into the proffered chair. 

“ Well, yes — ” 

“ The fact is,” continued Runnel, lightly, “ late hours 
are the proper hours for such birds as us, old boy, and 
for such business as is likely to be transacted between 
us ! How are the children ?” 

“ Very well, indeed,” replied Mrs. Spareman, 
“ although little Joshua — ” 

The visitor interrupted her with a quick gesture. 

“ I am not asking after your own progeny, Mrs. Spare- 
man,” he explained, “ for I took it for granted that their 
health corresponds to your own. I referred to the 
young couple in whom I am especially interested — Arty 
and Elgie !” 

The eager interest manifested in the voice and man- 
ner of Runnel struck both of his companions. 

“ They are well, I hope !” added the visitor, as he 
looked keenly from one to the other. 

Spareman exchanged a complacent grin with his wife. 

“ Yes, they are both well,” he then replied — “ very 
well, indeed !” 

The visitor drew a long breath of relief. 

“ I am glad to hear this,” he said. “ Everybody 
remains as much in the dark as ever, I suppose, in 
regard to the young couple? Nobody knows where 
they came from or who they are ?” 

“ Certainly not,” answered Spareman, as he and his 
wife both seated themselves. “ How should anybody 
here learn anything about them ? The neighbors don’t 
even know who I am,” and he grinned again. “ They 
little imagine that I was a pirate and a slaver in other 
days, and that my advent into their little village sixteen 
years ago was made in the character of a fugitive 
seeking a hiding-place. Why should the wooden-heads 


42 


The Young Castaways . 


know of any of these things ? You and I, Runnel, are 
not the sort of men to blow facts of this nature through 
a trumpet ! But excuse me !” 

Leaping nimbly to his feet, Sparem an produced a 
stout bottle from an adjacent cupboard, and placed a 
couple of tumblers upon the table in front of the visitor, 
with the remark : 

“ There is your old favorite, Grebb. Help yourself.” 

Runnel acted upon the invitation, and even Mrs. 
Spareman joined the two men in an instant and paid 
marked attention to the portly bottle. 

“ Did my former visit to you ever get out ?” asked the 
visitor, as he sipped the burning liquid. 

“ Well, yes — quite an idea of it,” answered Spareman, 
regretfully. “ Somebody must have seen us together, 
or seen you coming or going. In any case a rumor got 
abroad that a stranger had been here to make inquiries 
after the loss of the brig and about the two children, 
but I swore to everybody that it was all a lie, and the 
matter died out quite readily. I need hardly add that 
Jerushy and I have never lisped a word to any human 
being. We had too much at stake to do so. We have 
quite a large family of our own coming upon the stage, 
and are not a little pinched in our resources, so that we 
have been looking forward with great interest and 
eagerness to earning that money.” 

“Naturally enough,” returned Runnel. “The boy 
has continued to live with the butcher, I suppose, and 
the girl with you ?” 

The husband and wife nodded in concert. 

“ They have had some instruction, I hope,” continued 
the visitor, thoughtfully — “ are smart and bright, no 
doubt, and make a good appearance ?” 

The couple looked puzzled. 

“Why, as to that, Grebb,” said Spareman, hesitat- 


A not her Mysterious Visit . 


43 


ingly, “ you left no orders about any instruction, you 
may remember. All you said was that the children 
were greatly in your way, and that you would give us 
ten thousand dollars for satisfactory proofs of their 
death.” 

“ True, I said that — ” 

“ And we have accordingly borne in mind your in- 
structions and wishes, and have done all in our power 
to earn your approbation — and the money. The boy 
has been worked nearly to death, and various traps have 
been set for him, but his good luck has never deserted 
him. As to the gal, she has taken many a dose that ought 
to have settled her, but she’s fire-proof certain. And 
as you seemed so anxious to get rid of them — ” 

“ True, I was anxious in that way,” assented Runnel, 
with a shade of impatience, “ but times have changed 
within a year or two, and — You say the couple are 
quite well ?” 

The voice of the visitor was sharp with anxiety, as he 
abruptly asked this question. The puzzled look of the 
husband and wife deepened to uneasiness,, but they 
rallied and grinned again horribly, as Spareman replied : 

“ Oh, yes — they are well — as I was about to tell you. 
They’ve lived' and lived in defiance of your wishes and 
ours, Grebb — have lived and lived as if there’d never be 
any end to their living. But to-night they ran away 
together, and journeyed several miles along the shore 
road toward Boston, and finally lay down in a boat and 
went to sleep, and somehow the boat went adrift in the 
squall that jest then began blowing — ” 

A cry of horrible consternation escaped the lips of 
the visitor, as he leaped excitedly to his feet and 
gasped : 

“ Surely, you don’t mean — ” 

“ But I do, though,” declared Spareman, with grim 


44 


The Young Castaways . 


directness, mistaking the nature of Runnel’s excite- 
ment ; “ that is jest what I mean ! I sent ’em adrift in 
the boat, and they’re now as dead as hatchets !” 

For a moment the visitor stood as if petrified, and 
then he threw himself upon Spareman as if he would 
tear the startled wretch in pieces. Mrs. Spareman 
interposed in her husband’s favor as quick as possible, 
uttering loud screams and cries. It was chiefly the 
uproar she made that recalled the visitor to his senses. 

“ Why, you told me to kill ’em !” cried Spareman, as 
soon as he was free. 

“ True !” panted Runnel. 

“ I was only obeying orders !” 

“ True ; but the situation is changed entirely !” con- 
tinued Runnel. “ Oh, villain ! villain ! you know not 
what you’ve done! You’ve ruined me! Not for a 
million dollars would I have the least harm come to 
those children !” 

The word million, in relation to money, is always 
electrical. Mr. and Mrs. Spareman recovered their 
equanimity with the celerity of a flash of lightning. 

“ Why, in that case, all may be well yet,” declared 
the woman. 

“ If we are spry,” supplemented the husband, com- 
posing his ruffled exterior. “ The boat is unsinkable, 
and the couple may make a good fight for it, so that we 
can recover them safely at an early hour of the morn- 
ing !” 

Runnel flushed as if threatened with apoplexy. The 
hope that shot through his whole being resembled a 
convulsion. 

“ Oh ! if we can save them,” he gasped. 

“ We can at least try,” returned Spareman. 

“ I was to give you only ten thousand dollars to rid 
me of them ?” continued Runnel. 


Another Mysterioiis Visit . 


45 


“ Yes, yes !” cried Mrs. Spareman. 

“ But I will give you twice that sum, Spareman, if we 
can save them,” finished the visitor — “ that is to say, 
twenty thousand dollars in cash, if we are in time !” 

The cries of joy uttered by Spareman and his wife at 
this promise were incoherent. With that proneness to 
see everything as we want it to be, they were now as 
certain of saving the lives of the couple as they had 
been certain a moment before of their death. 

“Quick, then!” cried Spareman. “You and I must 
ride like lightning, Grebb, to the cove in which the 
children went adrift. In five minutes we can have our 
horses harnessed and be off.” 

In less than the time named, the two men were 
dashing away at a gallop, each too absorbed in his 
own thoughts for utterance — Runnel in thoughts of the 
children, and Spareman in thoughts of the promised 
reward. 

Would they be in time ? 

The cove was reached in due course, despite several 
narrow escapes from upsetting. The two men leaped 
to the ground, at the same instant arousing the solitary 
inhabitants of the spot with their cries. 

“ Two children adrift,” explained Spareman excit- 
edly to the two fishermen that emerged from the huts 
we have noticed. “ They’ve gone adrift in the missing 
boat — an hour or two since, doubtless. A hundred 
dollars to each of you to help us find them !” 

The hardy fishermen did not need a money reward 
for their services at such a juncture, but the promise 
did not the less stimulate them to heroic exertion. A 
boat externally resembling the missing one was promptly 
launched and manned, and in a moment thereafter was 
flying swiftly seaward. 

Pale, haggard, and mentally convulsed, Runnel stood 


4 6 


The Young Castaways . 


rigidly erect just forward of the mast, to which he 
clung, and sent his wild glances as far ahead as possible 
into the misty darkness. 

“ Oh, that we may save them !” he murmured, under 
his breath, “ Oh, that we may save them ! ” 


CHAPTER V. 

THE PURSUERS. 

It would have been difficult to tell which of the two 
men we left flying in pursuit of our hero and heroine, 
was the most in earnest — Joshua Spareman or Grebb 
Runnel. 

The whole soul of Runnel was bound up in the success- 
ful issue of the business, to be sure, but so was Spare- 
man’s ; the offer of twenty thousand dollars for the 
recovery of the young couple having endowed that 
greedy villain with all the zeal and energy of which any 
human being is capable. 

Not a word passed between the pursuers save in 
regard to the matter in hand, and as their course of 
action had been self-evident from the moment of leaving 
Spareman’s house until their embarkation in the boat, 
they had not had occasion for either speculation or 
inquiry. 

But once embarked with their two fishermen, in a 
boat much resembling, in size and rig, that in which 
the boy and girl had been sent adrift, the tongues of 
the two deeply interested and excited men became 
loosened. 

They were now in the realm of conjecture, and, con- 


The Pursuers. 


47 


sequently, in a field calculated to render them eager for 
information and advice. 

“ They must have more than two hours the start 
of us !” muttered Runnel, as the boat began to clear 
the cove. 

“ Two hours and a halt, at the least !” returned Spare- 
man, quickly. 

“ Then they must have been blown many miles out 
to sea!” pursued Runnel. “What course are they 
drifting ?” 

“ We must learn the exact direction of the wind before 
we can answer that question,” declared Spareman 
“ Norridge here can settle that p’int for us !” 

The fisherman appeared to scan his compass by the 
light of his lantern. 

“ The wind is about sou’ by east,” he then said oracu- 
larly ; “ and it has doubtless been so ever since this ’ere 
squall set in. But then there is summat of a current to 
the north’ard along this coast, as everybody knows, for 
which we must make allowance. My ’pinion is, there- 
fore, that we must look for the youngsters jest about 
to the east’ard ! What say you, Bill ?” 

The second fisherman fully confirmed the reasoning 
of his comrade. 

“ To the eastward be it, then,” exclaimed Runnel, with 
suppressed excitement. “ Double-reef your sail, so as 
to go as slow as possible, or we shall run past them long 
before daylight.” 

The order was acted upon by the two fishermen, while 
Runnel stood looking moodily into the darkness ahead 
of him. 

“ The boy was no sailor, I suppose ?” he suddenly 
cried. 

“ No sailyer at all, but greener than a squash,” replied 
Spareman. 


4 8 


The Young Castazvays. 


“ Then there is not the least likelihood that he has 
been able to handle his boat in this storm and dark- 
ness ?” 

The cheeks of Spareman flushed hotly, as he remem- 
bered how he had fastened the young couple into their 
cuddy, and his voice sounded hollow and strange to 
even himself, as he replied : 

“ No, there was not the least chance for him to play 
the sailyer.” 

Lowering his voice, he added : 

“ They had stowed themselves away in the cuddy, and 
I doubt if they had the presence of mind to get out of 
there after the boat capsized.” 

“ You consider it certain, then, that the boat capsized 
soon after leaving the cove ?” 

“ Certainly, or filled — which amounts to the same 
thing. She was left to herself, you know, and in this 
sea and wind could not fail to do the one thing or the 
other.” 

Runnel had all he could do to restrain the anger 
and disgust he experienced for his companion in iniquity. 

“ You have done a fine job for me in sending them 
adrift,” he growled in Spareman’s ear. “ It will be the 
worse for you if anything has happened to them.” 

Spareman was at first abashed by the remark, but 
quickly rallied, and responded stiffly : 

“ I was only carrying out your instructions, Cap’n 
Runnel, you will be pleased to remember.” 

The two men here became silent again, but their 
thoughts were busier than ever. 

“ He may growl, ” said Spareman to himself, as he 
glanced slyly at his companion. “ As I acted by his 
orders, he shall pay me for my work, whether it suits 
his present mood or not.” 

“ The cursedidiot !” Runnel was thinking at the same 


The Pursuers. 


49 


moment. “ There are ten chances to one that he has 
ruined me. If I do not find those children alive, my 
cake’s dough beyond all question.” 

“ There is one p’int I've not fully stated to you, 
Grebb,” spoke up Spareman, abruptly. “ The boat in 
which the children are adrift is not an ordinary craft, 
but is the only one of its kind ever seen here. It is, in 
fact, a life-boat that the inventor brought down here 
from Boston to try in the surf. It's not merely unsink- 
able, as I’ve told you already, but it’s provided with all 
sorts of contrivances for saving life, and would float like 
a feather in the biggest hurricane that ever bio wed. 
The craft belongs to Norridge, who can tell you its 
history.” 

“The history is not a long one to tell,” said the old 
fisherman. “ All I need say is that the inventor tried 
his boat once too often in the surf, before he had got 
everything to suit him, and the next morning the boat 
was found bottom-side-up, with the inventor under it, 
and he as dead as a herring. The boat was soon after 
sold at auction by the landlord of the tavern where the 
inventor had left quite a bill, and as nobody else’d bid 
much on it, I bid it off at twenty-five dollars !” 

The “ history” had a dispiriting effect upon Runnel. 

“ The boat has been unlucky from the start, it seems,” 
he growled. 

“ True, but what is one man’s fodder is any other 
man’s p’ison!” returned Spareman. “ That’re craft’ll 
float like a duck ! Whichever end or side of her is up, 
there’ll allers be enough of her out o’ water to burrer in 
or stand on or cling to ! If them young uns should 
have had their wits about them — ” 

Runnel interrupted the speculation with a general 
movement of impatience, transferring himself to the 
stern of the boat, with the remark : 


5o 


The Young Castazvays. 


“ I’ll talk to these old fishermen. Perhaps they can 
give me some practical information !” 

“ If you want my advice,” said Norridge, “ I can give 
it to you in a nut shell. We’d better run just as we are 
runnin’ and steer just as we are steerin’ until daylight. 
If the runaways are not then in sight, we shall know 
that they are not ahead of us, and will come straight 
back to meet them.” 

Runnel’s face brightened. 

“That covers the whole ground,” he commented. 
“ In the meantime we must watch for the capsized boat, 
although we shan’t be able to see her any great dis- 
tance in this darkness.” 

“ Possibly we may hear the boy yelling,” suggested 
Norridge. “ In any case, we must watch and listen.” 

For two hours longer the pursuers held to their course 
in accordance with the programme of Norridge, and at 
the end of that time the first gleams of a new day made 
their appearance. 

With what eager interests the four men watched 
every development of the morning can be imagined. 

In their impatience and excitement, Spareman and 
Runnel both saw the missing boat repeatedly in clouds 
and showers of spray, between darkness and dawn ; but 
they were at length compelled to realize, with the two 
fishermen, that not the least sign of the fugitives and 
their boat was visible within the range of the pursuers’ 
visions. 

“ This is singular — discouraging,” cried Runnel, 
when he could no longer discredit the evidence of his 
senses, the day having fully broken. “ That extraor- 
dinary life-boat that floated like a duck, must have gone 
straight to the bottom. What is your opinion, Nor- 
ridge ?” 

“ My opinion is that we have run past the life-boat. 


The Pursuers . 


5i 


I didn’t expect to see her at daylight, and I don’t. She’s 
probably twelve or fifteen miles behind us.” 

“ Then we have only to stand straight back to the 
shore to meet her ?” 

“ That’s my opinion.” 

“ Then go about immediately.” 

The order was obeyed and the boat retraced her 
course, sailing as near to the wind as possible, and oc- 
casionally changing her tack in order to keep near the 
line of the life-boat’s supposed drifting. But as the 
life-boat had in reality sailed faster than her pursuer, 
and had had nearly three hours the start, it was not 
strange that Runnel and his companions saw nothing 
of her, neither when daylight broke around them nor 
when they had retraced the twelve or fifteen miles men- 
tioned by Nor ridge. 

“ The thing is turning out as I supposed it would,” 
declared Runnel, with a volley of curses, when he had 
scoured the neighborhood in which the two fishermen 
were so sure of finding the missing boat. “ We are at 
the end of our calculations, and no sign of them. What 
is the next move ?” 

The question was too difficult for any of his com- 
panions to answer. All remained silent. 

“ Why don’t you speak up, Spareman?” continued 
Runnel, angrily, as he turned to his confederate. 
“ What’s the next move ? Out with it.” 

Spareman was now turning pale and flushing alter- 
nately as uneasily as a fish out of water. 

“ I’m up a stump !” he confessed, after a long cogita- 
tion. “ But I’ll never believe that the life-boat has gone 
under !” 

“ Then where is she ?” 

“ She may not be so directly east of the starting-point 


52 


The Young Castaways. 


as we supposed. She may be to the north of us, and 
she may be to the southward !” 

“ And you may be a fool, for all I can see to the 
contrary !” exclaimed Runnel, losing his self-command. 
“ A pretty kettle we've got into !” 

The fishermen smiled at the vexation of their em- 
ployers, exchanging careless glances of merriment with 
each other. 

“ What do you advise, Norridge ?” resumed Runnel. 
“ Are you up a stump, too ?” 

“ Not at all, sir,” replied the fisherman. “ Our proper 
course is as plain as the nose on your face !” 

“ Let's know what it is !” 

“ I don’t believe the life-boat is to the east’ard of us, 
and if she is, it would be like looking for a needle in a 
haystack for us to attempt to find her !” 

“ We can at least try !” 

“ No, sir ! We’d be fools to sail another mile in that 
direction. You must remember that there isn’t a drop 
of water nor a mouthful of food aboard of this ’ere boat 
— and I for one would like a drink and a breakfast 
already.” 

“We can’t sail seaward, then ?” 

“ Not unless you want to run a good risk of starving 
to death.” 

“ Then what shall we do ?” demanded Runnel, im- 
patiently. 

“ We’d better return to the shore, making several 
tacks by the way, aud keeping a good look-out,” replied 
Norridge. “ I do not have the least doubt of seeing 
the life-boat within an hour or two, if she’s still afloat 
but if we fail to see anything of her, we shall at least 
reach the shore in the course of the day, and so save 
our bacon — which, I take it, is a p’int not to be lost 
sight of.” 


The Pursuers . 


53 


The vexation of Runnel at these prospects was too 
great to be concealed. 

“ I see,” he commented, savagely. “ Our search for 
the runaways will turn out a failure. We shall see 
nothing of them — ” 

“ But it’s quite possible that we shall hear, upon our 
return, of their having been picked up by some coaster,” 
suggested Norridge. 

“ And this is all we have to look forward to,” cried 
Runnel. u A pretty business, I must say. Well, well, 
Norridge, go on in the way you proposed. That is the 
only course mow left us.” 

The two fishermen lost no time in heading for shore, 
and Runnel and Spareman continued their eager look- 
out in silence. 

Nothing was seen, of course, of the missing boat, or 
of our hero and heroine. It was in vain that the pur- 
suers passed the whole morning in the broiling sun, 
hungry and thirsty, and torn with a thousand despairs 
and regrets. In vain that the two fishermen offered 
moody supplementary suggestions and that they were 
acted upon. Beyond the passage of a coaster or two 
within speaking distance, and a glimpse of an outward 
bound European ship, hull down, on the horizon, not the 
least sign of a sail was vouchsafed them. 

It was late in the afternoon when the pursuers 
returned to the cove from which they had set out upon 
their fruitless quest. By this time Runnel and Spare- 
man were both feverish with hunger, and their tongues 
cleaved with thirst to the roofs of their mouth. 

“ What’s to pay ?” asked Runnel briefly, as he leaped 
ashore. 

“ I should say we oughter to have fifty dollars for this 
job, Cap’n,” replied Norridge. 

“ There’s a hundred,” returned Runnel, as he passed 


54 


The Young Castaways. 


the fisherman a bright new note, “ and I will give you 
as much more if you can send me, within a few days, a 
line about that life-boat and the young couple. Here’s 
a card containing my address, and I hope to hear from 
you promptly.” 

And with this, Runnel began striding away nervously, 
paying not the least heed to his late traveling com- 
panion. 

“One moment, Grebb,” called Spareman, running 
after Runnel, and changing all sorts of colors. 

“ Well, what do you want ?” asked Runnel savagely, 
as he halted and faced his confederate. 

“ I hope you’re not going off in this fashion, Grebb,” 
said Spareman. “ I must have at least five thousand 
dollars to-day of the ten you are owing me !” 

“ Owing you ?” sneered Runnel. 

“Yes, owing me!” affirmed Spareman, growing 
bolder at the thought of the sum mentioned. “ Orders 
is orders, you must remember, and in sending the chil- 
dren adrift, I was only carrying out one of the identi- 
cal hints you gave me in the course of your former visit. 
It’s not my fault that you have changed your mind, 
and that you blow hot one day and cold the next. I 
must have at least five thousand dollars for services 
actually rendered, Grebb, and I must have ’em to-day !” 

Runnel raged like a tiger. 

“ You’ll never get a dollar of me, Spareman, unless 
you produce those children alive !” he declared, sternly. 
“ Why, you infernal fool! You’ve ruined me — broken 
up the loveliest little arrangement that ever existed ! 
To think of all I am in danger of losing — But let me 
not waste time and words upon you ! When you have 
fonnd those children, write me. Until then, adieu !” 

And Runnel walked rapidly away. 

“ You will at least ride home with me ?” called Spare, 


55 


Desolation and Despair . 


man, swallowing his bitter pill with the best grace he 
could. 

“ No, I’ll be blest if I do !” replied Runnel. “ I am 
going in another direction — to Boston as straight as an 
arrow, and thence to South Carolina. Write me, as 
before, to the care of my agents in Charleston. And if 
you have the least sense or energy, do try to make up 
for the horrible blunder you have committed. Good 
afternoon !” 

And with this Runnel resumed his hurried departure. 

“The infernal dolt !” burst from his lips as soon as he 
was alone. “ Those children are dead, and can never 
be produced ! My little game is knocked in the head. 
I must set things to rights by some bold roguery ! And 
first of all to act towards Mrs. Hillston before she can 
learn this horrible business !” 


♦ 

CHAPTER VI. 

DESOLATION AND DESPAIR. 

A little out of Charleston, upon the crest of a beautiful 
plateau, from which the land slopes gently down to the 
Ashley and Cooper rivers, and not far from midway 
between them, stood one of the handsomest residences to 
be seen in that neighborhood, in the midst of one of those 
vast and productive estates, which nowhere exist in 
greater beauty and perfection than in the Palmetto 
State. 

This property had long belonged to the wealthy and 
eminent family of Hillston, and for many years had been 
in the hands of Col. Abner Hillston, the last of a long 


56 


The Young Castaways . 


line of honorable and distinguished gentlemen, whose 
annals dated from the first settlement of the country, 
and even for hundreds of years previous, the ancient 
progenitors of the family having been renowned in 
England as far back as the middle ages. 

The colonel was now dead, and a blight seemed to 
have fallen upon the fine and roomy mansion from 
which he had vanished. The doors and windows were 
kept closed, and an air of woful desolation seemed to 
permeate the whole place, as if with the life of the 
master all other life had departed. 

The sole proprietress of the premises was now Mrs. 
Hillston, the colonel's widow. 

At a late hour of the very evening upon which Arty 
and Elgie Seaborn had set out upon their fateful travels, 
as related, Mrs. Hillston was pacing wearily to and fro 
in one of the large chambers of the Hillston mansion. 
She was clad in the sable habiliments of grief ; the only 
white visible on her person being the simple lawn frills 
at her throat and wrists, and her air was well in keep- 
ing with her garb, her countenance wearing a look of 
unrest and loneliness to which no human tongue 
could have given adequate expression. And yet her 
sable weeds could not mar her glorious loveliness, nor 
could her wild sorrow and solitude for one instant hide 
the sweetness of her spirit, the gentleness of her man- 
ners, the delicacy of her refinement, or the command- 
ing dignity of her womanhood. 

The unhappy lady was still young. Despite the 
threads of silvery hue which had appeared in her hair, 
and despite even the deep lines of grief which had 
stamped themselves for all time upon her cheeks and 
around her sensitive mouth, it was not difficult to see 
that her years scarcely exceeded thirty, and that in all 


Desolation and Despair. 


57 


the desolations of her life she had never ceased to be 
sustained by the angel of hope. 

The form of Mrs. Hillston was thin and her cheeks 
wasted and emaciated, but not so thin, and wasted as to 
detract essentially from a beauty which had once been 
truly peerless. Every look and gesture was still ani- 
mated, her every step still graceful and commanding, 
and her bearing full of energy and fire. 

“A year to-night,” came in barely audible tones from 
her lips — “ a year to-night.” 

Words fail us to describe the sad unrest expressed in 
her silvery voice. 

Pausing in front of a portrait which occupied a prom- 
inent place on the wall, she bowed her head in an 
uncontrollable fit of weeping. 

The portrait was that of the late colonel, her husband. 

Just a year had passed since she had laid him in his 
grave. 

The sad recollections of the weeping lady were at 
length interrupted by a discreet knock upon one of the 
doors of the apartment. Dropping into a chair, she 
composed her features by a resolute effort, and bade 
the knocker enter. 

The new-comer proved to be her maid, a quiet, sym- 
pathizing and capable woman, upon the downhill side 
of life, who had passed all her mature years in the ser- 
vice of the family. 

“ If you please, madam,” announced the maid, “ the 
Reverend Mr. Ashley is here.” 

“Show him in at once, Mrs. Willset,” commanded the 
mistress. “ 1 am awaiting him.” 

A minute later the beau ideal of a kind, refined and 
even-tempered pastor, with all the glory of his religion 
and blameless life hanging like a radiance about him, 
entered her presence* 


53 


The Young Castaways . 


She received him as became his character and station. 

“ Yon do me great honor, as well as a great service, 
Mr. Ashley, in responding so promptly to my sum- 
mons, M she said, after greetings had been exchanged. 
“ As a weary child I come to you,’’ and she heaved a 
deep sigh. “ I need your ministrations — the peace that 
you alone can give me.” 

The clergyman drew his chair nearer to Mrs. Hill- 
ston’s, and continued holding in his own the jeweled 
hand she had offered him. 

“ I hope you do not look merely to me, madam, but 
to One greater than I — to Him I so unworthily and 
inadequately represent,” returned Mr. Ashley, in a tone 
of deep sympathy. “ Man is as powerless to bless as to 
save. You must look higher. In all the wide world 
there is only one secure refuge and one unfailing com- 
fort. You must look, not to me, but to Heaven.” 

“ I do ! I do ! I am nearly done with the world, 
Mr. Ashley, and with all things in it. The long war is 
nearly over,” and a pitiful attempt at a smile wreathed 
her lips. “ The heart so long steeled to bear and to 
suffer is breaking.” 

A flood of tears relieved the agony with which these 
words were spoken. Mr. Ashley was a true comforter. 
He knew when to speak and when to keep silent. For 
several minutes he mingled his tears in silence with 
those of his unhappy companion. 

“ I want your advice,” resumed Mrs. Hillston, with 
the abruptness of a deep pre-occupation. “You are 
aware of the great misery of my life, no doubt, but I 
must recall a few of its particulars. You doubtless 
remember that, after my betrothal to Colonel Hillston, 
I was sought in marriage by a man named Runnel ?” 

The clergyman bowed sadly. 

“ I am aware of the principal facts of all that horrible 


Desolation and Despair . 


59 


business, of course,” he said. “ But why recall them 
now ? Why—” 

“ Bear with me, Mr. Ashley,” interrupted Mrs. Hills- 
ton, in the accents of a dominating grief. u I but recall 
these facts of the past for our present guidance. The 
said Runnel, although wealthy and apparently respect- 
able, was almost a stranger to me, and had not the 
least cause to count upon the acceptance of his suit. 
But he was angry at his rejection, and vowed that he 
would take a terrible revenge.” 

The clergyman inclined his head still more sadly, but 
with the air of doubting the wisdom of these reviews 
of the past, and Mrs. Hillston continued : 

“ You are aware how that menace was executed. My 
little boy and girl — my twin children — had scarcely 
entered their third year, when they disappeared 
strangely one night, as if blotted from the face of the 
earth, and from that hour I have not set eyes upon 
them !” 

“ I am only too familiar with the sad tale,” said the 
clergyman, gently. “ You supposed that Runnel had 
stolen the children !” 

“ The supposition was a certainty, only we could not 
prove it !” resumed Mrs. Hillston. “ No trace was left 
by the spoiler. It was in vain that my husband had 
that wicked man sought for. It was years before he 
was found, and when found, not the least clue was 
gained to the whereabouts of our children. It was 
equally in vain that my husband caused the miscreant 
to be followed and watched — that he was tracked to the 
wilds of Africa — to scores of distant lands — through- 
out the great oceans. The implacable villain kept only 
too well his terrible secret !” 

The clergyman bowed his head as if crushed. Only 
too well did he know the horrible story ! 


6o 


The Young Castaways . 


Mrs. Hillston continued : 

“ And so the years have dragged away ; my husband 
and I never doubting in the goodness of God, and never 
wholly despairing of some day finding our lost ones, 
but I have not the least doubt that the long deferring 
of this hope was one of the causes of my husband’s 
death. The doctors said he was worn out with his long 
quest, but I know that his heart was withered with its 
weight of woe. He died a year ago — ” 

“ And you are still in the same great darkness in which 
he left you ?” asked Mr. Ashley, as Mrs. Hillston again 
gave way to her emotion. “ You do not even know that 
the said Runnel stole your children ?” 

“ Yes, I know it !” 

The clergyman started. 

“ What, you really know it ?” he demanded, excitedly, 

“ Yes, I know it ! I had the avowal from his own 
lips !” 

“ You have seen him, then ?” 

“ I have seen him !” 

The manner of Mrs. Hillston was now characterized 
by a wild exultation. Her cheeks glowed feverishly — 
her eyes gleamed like stars. 

“ You have seen him ?” cried Mr. Ashley again, in the 
greatest astonishment. “ When ? where ?” 

“ A couple of weeks since, and here — here, in this 
very house !” Mr. Ashley was speechless with surprise. 

“ The monster had heard in some foreign land that 
my husband was dead,” resumed Mrs. Hillston, speak- 
ing with feverish volubility, “ and he came to renew his 
wooing ! He had only to mention my children, of 
course, to secure a hearing. He informed me that my 
lost ones are still living, and declared that he could 
place them in my arms at any desired moment. Oh, 
what a yearning he aroused in my soul for them ! I 


Desolation and Despair . 


61 


tried to bring him to repentance, but in vain. All 
the night long I implored him to be merciful, but in vain. 
For hours and hours I pleaded with him to bring my 
children back to me, but he refused. And when, at last, 
in wild despair, I asked him if there were no possible 
terms upon which he would restore them to me, he 
smilingly answered in the affirmative.” 

“ Ah, you touched his hard heart at last !” breathed 
the clergyman, excitedly. “And what terms did he 
propose ?” 

“ Simply — that I should marry him.” 

Mr. Ashley recoiled as if he had received a severe 
blow. His whole frame seemed convulsed with horror. 

“ Marry him ?” he echoed — “ marry the man who had 
done you such irreparable injury ? Marry the man 
whose wickedness had been so deadly to your husband ?” 

“ Those were his terms.” 

“ And you spurned the dastard from your presence ?” 

“ I would have done so, but the thought of my chil- 
dren restrained me,” replied Mrs. Hillston, brokenly. 
“ And when he described to me the probable future of 
my children — the possible blight of their bodies and souls 
in the sphere into which he had thrust them, a horrible 
yearning came over me to rescue them from their 
threatened fate, and — and — oh ! — how shall I ever say 
it ? — I consented to his terms.” 

The revelation was too horrible to be immediately 
and fully comprehended. 

The good clergyman looked as if stunned, sitting 
motionless and silent. 

“And so the miscreant sped away in great glee to 
bring my children to me,” finished Mrs. Hillston, more 
and more despairingly. “ To save them from the hor- 
rible gulf into which he has thrust them, I have been 
false to myself---false to my dead husband — and have 


62 


The Young Castaways. 


promised my hand to one of the most heartless and 
remorseless villains that has ever existed ! Compre- 
hend, if you can, the whole horror of my situation !” 

“But this unholy marriage must never be !” cried the 
clergyman, arising to his feet and speaking in the tones 
of a keen indignation. “ You must never, never marry 
that man, my dear Mrs. Hillston — never !” 

“Upon no other terms will he bring me my chil- 
dren !” 

“ But the curse of Heaven would be upon such an 
unrighteous union !” protested the clergyman, with 
great earnestness. “You shall not make this horrible 
sacrifice — never, never !” 

Mrs. Hillston wrung her hands silently. 

“Yes, I shall marry Runnel,” she said, as firmly as 
sadb 7 . “ I shall marry him to rescue my children from 
the living grave into which he has thrust them. But 
1 will never be his wife, nor will I survive the hour of 
his shameful victory. In a word, I will sacrifice the 
remainder of my life for the good of my children ; but 
the hour of my marriage shall be the hour of my death. 
Such is my decision, and it is to acquaint you with my 
resolve that I have asked the favor of this visit.” 

The clergyman stood as if turned to stone, unable to 
move or speak. He was appalled by the horrible gulf 
before him. 





CHAPTER VII. 

FEVER AND DELIRIUM. 

To the horror Mr. Ashley had felt at the revelations 
of Mrs. Hillston, was already added a sense of painful 
anxiety as to the effect of all these miseries upon her. 

“ You are ill,” he said, abruptly. 

“Yes,” she assented — “ worn out in mind and in 
body. Heaven only knows what agonies I have en- 
dured during all these long years, and especially since 
I last saw that terrible man !” 

She sank back in her chair, white and panting. Save 
for the burning flush upon her hollow checks, she looked 
like a corpse. Never in all his saddest experiences had 
the good clergyman seen a countenance so wan, so woe- 
be-gone and ghastly. 

“ Something must be done for you at once,” he ex- 
claimed, arising. “ Permit me.” 

Stepping to the door of the apartment, he summoned 
the lady’s maid, whom he found in waiting with a look 
of keen anxiety upon her countenance. 

“ Take care of your mistress,” he enjoined. “ I will 
send for Dr. Moore.” 

Dispatching the first servant he encountered for the 
family physician, Mr. Ashley returned to Mrs. Hillston, 
whom he found in a state of exhaustion approaching a 
swoon. Her maid had assisted her to a couch, and was 

[63] 



64 


The Young Castaways . 


bathing her head and features with the strongest restor- 
atives at hand. 

“ How long has she been in this feeble condition ?” 
asked the clergyman of the maid. 

“ For months, sir/' was the answer. “ But it is not 
this utter want of strength alone that now ails her,” 
added the maid, in a whisper corresponding to the 
clergyman’s. “ She has a fever !” 

The declaration was confirmed by the old physician 
of the family, who arrived promptly. A look of the 
gravest concern appeared upon the countenance of the 
medical gentleman, ere he had finished counting his 
patient’s quick pulse. 

“ Get her to bed immediately,” he commanded, ad- 
dressing her maid. “ She requires prompt treatment. 
Is her sister-in-law here ?” 

“ No, sir. Mrs. Stevens went north on a visit to her 
relatives several weeks ago,” answered Mrs. Willset. 
“ But there are enough to help me !” 

Taking the clergyman by the arm, with the familiar- 
ity of an old friend, Dr. Moore drew him away into an 
adjoining apartment. 

“ She’s a sick woman, Mr. Ashley,” declared the 
physician — “ very greatly changed since I last saw her. 
Why didn’t they call me sooner ? I have not heard a 
word about her being ill !” 

Mr. Ashley hesitated a moment as to his duty in the 
premises, and then said : 

“ Her disease is not merely the result of physical con- 
ditions or circumstances, Doctor. She has lately been a 
prey to great cares and anxieties !” 

“ Is there any objection to my knowing what these 
anxieties are ?” 

“ Not the least,” replied Mr. Ashley. “ The facts 
have been communicated to me in strict confidence, and 


Fever and Delirium . 


65 


it is under the same condition that I take the liberty of 
making them known to you, Doctor Moore. As her 
physician, you are entitled to know, of course, all you 
have to contend with — everything that may tend to 
complicate her case. The nature of her anxieties can 
be briefly stated, since you are alreadyjferfectly familiar 
with the general facts of her sad history.” 

The case was at once stated, briefly but clearly. The 
anxiety of Dr. Moore deepened visibly with every word 
of the sad revelation. 

“ You are sure the man Runnel has been here ?” was 
the physician’s first question, when the clergyman had 
finished. 

“ Certainly he has been here. His late presence is 
not a figment of a diseased mind, as I was for an 
instant tempted to believe.” 

“ And her promise to marry the infernal rascal — that 
is a fact also ?” 

“ Beyond question.” 

The physician’s brow become doubly corrugated — 
with anger and increased anxiety. 

“ Poor thing !” he sighed. “ How she must have 
suffered ! I fear she is going to have brain fever.” 

Mrs. Willsett looked anxiously out at this juncture at 
‘the doctor, who responded to the silent appeal. 

“ I will wait here for a further word from you, Doctor, 
in regard to her condition,” observed the clergyman. 
‘‘Perhaps you will be able to break up her fever — to 
change everything at once for the better.” 

It was some time before Dr. Moore rejoined the 
clergyman, and when he did appear his countenance 
was graver than ever. 

“ She is in a critical state, Mr. Ashley,” he communi- 
cated in a guarded tone. “ It is curious — singular, even 
extraordinary — to observe how people keep their ills 


66 


The Young Castaways . 


from their physician. Here is a lady who has been 
slowly dying for weeks and months, and not once has 
she sent for me. She has had no appetite, and has 
consequently ate next to nothing. She has been 
greatly disturbed mentally, and hence has not slept. 
Gloomy, despairing, and utterly wretched, she has kept 
herself rigidly within doors, taking neither air nor 
exercise. And yet, while patients go on in this way, 
they wonder why the doctor, called at the eleventh 
hour, is not able to save them.” 

“ You think Mrs. Hillston is really in danger, then?” 

“ She certainly is, but I do not by any means despair 
of setting things to rights. I have a great auxiliary in 
her strong desire to see her children — to assure their 
future— to right the dreadful wrong of which they have 
been the victims. Go and see her a few moments. 
She has a few more words to say to you. I will wait for 
you, and set you down by the way.” 

The eyes of Mrs. Hillston were looking eagerly for 
the clergyman, as he again presented himself in her 
presence. She smiled sadly, as he advanced to her bed- 
side, taking her extended hand. 

“ Our interview was hardly finished,” she murmured, 
44 and yet I hardly know what I would say further. 
Perhaps you will think it was foolish and weak of me to 
promise to marry Runnel — ” 

The good pastor interrupted her with a gesture. 

44 It is not for me to judge you,” he said, 44 and still less 
to blame !” 

He had already asked himself if she had done right 
in making such terms with her life-long enemy for the 
restoration of her children, but had not been able to 
reach a satisfactory answer. 

On the one hand, it was impossible to think without 
horror of her union with Runnel ; but, on the other 


Fever and Delirium. 


67 


hand, has not a mother the holy right of sacrificing her- 
self for her loved ones ? 

The unhappy lady seemed to divine the reflections of 
her visitor. 

“ I need not enter upon any defence of myself, I am 
sure/' she murmured. “ Even if I have erred, your 
kind heart will excuse me. But I will say that I have 
endeavored to act right in the premises. I saw my 
children consigned to abysses as dark as the grave — 
such dreadful abysses ! You will readily comprehend 
to what depths such a man as Runnel can descend in a 
work of revenge. I saw my innocent girl the victim of 
this man’s wicked machinations, and my boy equally 
debased and brutalized — the one, perhaps, a criminal 
and the other an outcast !” 

The clergyman pressed with tender sympathy the 
hand he still held. 

“ I can well comprehend your action,” he declared. 
“ But you did not give your promise to that terrible 
being, without well defined and well understood con- 
ditions ?” 

“ Certainly not. Not until he has brought me face to 
face with my loved ones can he ask me to marry him !” 

“ So far good,” breathed Mr. Ashley. “ All may yet 
be well with you. If you had thought to put detectives 
on Runnel’s track, when he left you, and so traced him 
to the obscurity in which he is retaining the children — ” 

“ I did think of this,” interrupted Mrs. Hillston, 
sadly. “ I had the villain watched and followed. But 
here is the result !” 

She drew a crumpled and tear-stained paper from her 
bosom and passed it to the clergyman, who read it. It 
was dated at Norfolk, and contained only a line or two. 
It was to the effect that the detective had traced his 


68 The Young Castaways . 


man easily enough to Norfolk, but that at that city all 
trace of him had been lost. 

“ And so I haven’t the least clue to the whereabouts 
of my children,” said Mrs. Hillston, weeping silently. 
“ They may be somewhere at the north, or they may 
be upon some island in the Atlantic — within a few hun- 
dred miles of me, or thousands of miles from me.” 

The clergyman heaved a sigh that came from the 
depths of his soul. 

“The dilemma in which you are placed is a most hor- 
rible one,” he murmured. “ Do you really believe that 
your children are alive ?” 

“ Yes. It was impossible for me to doubt Runnel’s 
affirmations on the subject.” 

“ Do you believe that you will recognize them beyond 
all question ?” 

“ I will trust my heart for that.” 

“ I ask only because the destroyer of your peace may 
seek to impose upon you,” continued Mr. Ashley, 
thoughtfully. “ It is quite possible — after all these 
years — that your own children are dead, in which case, 
with the incentive you have given him, this man may 
produce a couple in their stead.” 

“ He is capable of such an act, of course,” admitted 
Mrs. Hillston. “ But I shall not be the dupe of any 
such imposture, should he attempt it. As young as my 
children were when they were stolen, I am sure to know 
them.” 

“ You will, of course, be very cautious in all your, 
dealings with this man,” said the clergyman, gravely. 
“ When do you expect to see him again ?” 

“ Within a few days, according to his representations 
— possibly before the end of the week.” 

Mr. Ashley was silent a few moments, reflecting 
earnestly, and then he said : 


Fever and Delirium . 


69 


“ The revelations you have made to me have filled me 
with amazement. I am at a loss for the moment what 
to think or say, and must have time to review the whole 
matter thoroughly and prayerfully. Do not be rash or 
despairing. As dark as is your lot, there is one unfail- 
ing light at your service, and to that I earnestly recom- 
mend you. Try to get a good night’s rest, and if you 
are not too feverish and exhausted, I will take counsel 
with you in the course of to-morrow. Above all, if Run- 
nel should appear, do not see him alone, and do not take 
the least action with him or in reference to him until 
you have talked with me further. Heaven be with you, 
my dear madam, and may your strength from above cor- 
respond to your heavy afflictions.” 

Joining the unhappy lady in a brief prayer, the rever- 
end gentleman added a few further counsels and took 
his departure in company with Dr. Moore. Both went 
away in a reverie as sad as it was profound, and not 
without a keen anxiety respecting the wild-eyed lady 
behind them, but little did they imagine the utter terror 
and despair — the utter physical prostration even — of 
which she was already the victim. 

“ I hope I am not going to be ill, Mrs. Willset,” was 
the first observation she made after the clergyman’s 
withdrawal. 

“ You are ill already, madam,” returned the maid, 
sadly and anxiously. “ You must give over this worry- 
ing — take the medicine the doctor has left you — and try 
to get to sleep. The first step toward doing anything 
for yourself or anybody else is to break up this fever.” 

“ I will do whatever you tell me,” declared the patient. 
“ Where is the medicine ?” 

The dose was duly swallowed, and its effects as duly 
realized, the sufferer sinking into one of those profound 
slumbers which only exhaustion can cause. 


70 


The Young Castaways . 


For a long time Mrs. Willset watched her mistress 
contentedly, giving her every care and attention, and 
endeavoring to believe that the night would produce a 
great change for the better. During several nights pre- 
vious the rest of the maid had been more or less broken, 
and it was no wonder, therefore, that she herself fell 
asleep in the still hours of the night when everything 
had become quiet throughout the house. How long she 
slept she did not know, but when she at last roused her- 
self she at once conceived the impression, from the 
silence around her, that something was wrong. Spring- 
ing to the side of the bed in which she had left her mis- 
tress reposing, she saw at a glance that it was empty — 
that she alone was in possession of the apartment — in a 
word, that Mrs. Hillston was gone ! 

The shrieks with which the terrified woman alarmed 
the household can be imagined. 

“ She’s gone !” was the first coherent declaration of 
Mrs. Willset, whose grief was terrible to witness. “ Oh ! 
how can I ever forgive myself ? I did not intend to fall 
asleep, but I did, and the poor lady has become worse 
while I slept and wandered off in her delirium.” 

“ Her clothes are gone,” cried another of the servants. 
“ She dressed herself, it seems.” 

“ And she must have been gone quite a while,” said a 
third, feeling where Mrs. Hillston had been lying. “ The 
bed is as cold as a stone.” 

“ I must have seen her when she left,” exclaimed the 
butler, arriving upon the scene. “ I saw a woman closely 
wrapped up going out of the side door about an hour 
ago, and supposed her to be one of the neighbors who 
had been watching or had dropped in for inquiries.” 

“ An hour ago !” gasped Mrs. Willset. “ Then where 
is she now ?” 

“ Heaven only knows !” answered one. 


The Salem Trader . 


7i 


“ She may have drowned herself !” declared another. 

“ Quick ! we must search for her ?” cried a third. 

In an instant all was bustle and excitement, as well as 
anxiety and confusion. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE SALEM TRADER. 

There are only two famous Salems. 

The one is known only through its king, Melchisedek, 
who seems to have been an extraordinary personage, 
and to have had some very curious dealings with the 
patriarch Abraham. We could say a great deal about 
Melchisedek, about whom little is known, and still more 
about his royal city of Salem, about which we know 
absolutely nothing ; but we content ourselves by refer- 
ring to what Moses and St. Paul have said directly on 
the one subject, or have indirectly suggested on the 
other. 

The other Salem has two great claims to attention — 
its “ witchcraft ” and its commerce. 

The merchants in this latter Salem are too numerous 
to be counted, and they are nearly all engaged or inter- 
ested in “going down to the sea in ships.” 

For many years the city of Salem sent more ships to 
the west coast of Africa than any other port in America 
— more even than New York and Boston put together. 

Prominent among the illustrious commanders of the 
port of Salem, at the date of our narrative, was Captain 
Jabez Strong. 

Ask any one in Salem who Captain Jabez Strong was 


72 


The Young Castaways. 


and what he did, and the answer will invariably be that 
your respondent never heard of him before, and don’t 
know anything about him. The reason why the inhab- 
itants of Salem will give you this answer is very simple ; 
at the request of the captain himself, we have substi- 
tuted for his real name a fictitious one. Had we given his 
real name, the reader would pack his carpet-bag and 
take the next train for Salem, and leave our story unread, 
so much more charming would be a personal interview 
with this famous navigator than any second-hand version 
of his wonderful adventures. As the captain can’t be 
subjected to such a general visitation, however, and 
especially as we have our own little interests to consider, 
we shall proceed in this business exactly as we have 
begun it. 

Be it known, therefore, that upon a certain fine morn- 
ing in a certain pleasant month, and less than a thou- 
sand years ago, the brig Bunting , Captain Jabez Strong, 
took her departure from the ancient and renowned port 
of Salem, with a fine breeze, to which every inch of the 
brig’s canvas had been spread, including royals and stud- 
ding-sails, and with just enough life in the sea for its 
surface to look fresh and lively. 

The crew of the brig comprised ten or twelve persons, 
beginning with the commander and finishing with a 
diminutive specimen of African ebony, who officiated 
as cabin boy. 

There were the usual sailors, steward and cook, of 
whom little need be said. They were average speci- 
mens of their kind, some of them wicked and vicious, 
and some good-hearted and careless, indifferent to 
advancement, content with their shiftlessness, and hav- 
ing no other ambition than to get along easily with the 
captain. A ship’s crew is always a ship’s crew, and noth- 
ing but a ship’s crew, and when you have seen one you 


The Salem Trader . 


73 


have seen all that ever existed or ever will exist, from 
the days of Admiral Noah down to the crews of the 
Kamschatkaian war-vessels, which, in due course of the 
ages, will sail over the site of North America, when our 
boasted Western continent shall have gone back into the 
depths of the ocean. 

The only two persons aboard of the brig who merit an 
especial notice were Captain Strong and Mr. Medlar, his 
chief mate, and concerning these two men we shall give 
every needful information, as fast as the woof and warp 
of their histories shall be woven. 

We will merely mention in this place that these two 
men presented a total contrast — the one being all good- 
ness and honor, and the other a detestable villain. 

The voyage upon which the Bunting thus set forth 
was at least her twentieth. 

There is always something exhilarating in getting a 
good start, especially if one is racing horses or making a 
sea voyage, and the general sentiment aboard of the 
stanch brig Bunting , as she went bounding out of port, 
was one of keen satisfaction and enjoyment. 

Captain Strong was particularly delighted. 

“ If we could keep this up about twenty days,” he 
ejaculated, just as the headlands of Gloucester were 
fading out of sight behind him, “ we would make a 
famous voyage.” 

Mr. Medlar made some civil response, but there was 
a snaky gleam in his eyes which would have puzzled an 
observer, as he turned away to some unimportant duty. 

“ It’ll be the last voyage of the old fellow, I’m think- 
ing,” he whispered to a bull-necked and dark-faced sea- 
man who had been hovering near him all the morning. 
“As to its being a quick voyage, Rodding, or a ‘ fa?nous' 
one, that is his look-out.” 

“ He don’t seem to have any suspicions, mate,” 


74 


The Young Castaways . 


returned Rodding, exchanging with the executive a 
smile of sinister meaning. 

“ Certainly not. Your honest man is generally an easy 
prey. Judging others by himself, his judgment is the 
greatest of errors and absurdities." 

For several hours the brig stood dashingly on her 
course to the eastward without the occurrence of any 
unusual event, but about the middle of the forenoon 
Rodding reported to Medlar that he had seen a curious 
object upon the brig's bow and a couple of miles 
distant. 

“ Looks like a small craft bottom upwards," added 
Rodding, “ but it may be a whale." 

The executive produced his glass and turned it in the 
direction indicated. 

“ It is a boat bottom upwards," he declared, in a 
low tone, as he lowered his glass and shut it up, “ and 
there is a person, or some persons, upon it. Hush ! not 
a word." 

“ Won’t you report the discovery ?" 

“ No. Why should we crowd ourselves with ship- 
wrecked sailors? Let’em take care of themselves." 

“ But there can’t be more than two or three of them, 
to judge by the size of the boat." 

“ There would be two or three too many. We shall 
have trouble enough without adding to the number of 
our enemies. Let ’em take care of themselves, Rod- 
ding. We can’t be bothered with ’em." 

And with this the mate walked away, giving his atten- 
tion to some trifling matter connected with the disci- 
pline of the deck 

u A wreck ahead, Cap^n Strong !’’ suddenly called a 
sailor on duty near the commander, who, seated in the 
shadow of his main-sail, had been looking over a mani- 
fest of his cargo, of which he was the principal owner. 


The Salem Trader . 


75 


Some sort of a wreck, Cap’n, about six points to the lee- 
ward/' 

In an instant Captain Strong was upon his feet and all 
attention. 

“ Bring me my glass, Cuddle,” he. ordered. 

The diminutive African was not more than five 
seconds in placing the instrument in the captain's 
hands. 

“Why, it’s a little shore-fisher bottom side up,” ejacu- 
lated Capt. Strong, after looking at the object a few 
moments. “ It’s exactly in the direction Medlar was 
looking a minute ago ! Didn't you see it, Mr. Medlar ?” 

“ No, sir !” 

“ Then what were you looking at ?” 

“ I — I thought I saw something,” stammered the exec- 
utive, becoming as red as a lobster, “ but I couldn’t 
find it !” 

“Couldn’t find it!” echoed the commander, in aston- 
ishment. “ 1 don’t see how you could avoid seeing the 
wreck. It’s as plainly to be seen as the nose on your 
face. Run down to it, Mr. Medlar, and we’ll see what 
it is !” 

It was with a very ill grace that the executive gave 
the necessary order. 

In the course of a few minutes Capt. Strong was able 
to make out the wreck distinctly. 

“ It’s a mere cockle-shell,” he muttered. “ I see only 
two persons upon it — a boy and a girl !” 

The interest with which the good captain neared the 
wreck, after discovering the young couple, kept him 
almost speechless. 

“A strange craft !” was his ejaculation, as soon as the 
brig was hove to near the wreck. “And a strange pair 
to be in that predicament! Out with a boat at once, 


76 


The Young Castaways . 


Mr. Medlar — and allow me to add that you are singu- 
larly slow this morning !” 

There was a touch of fire in the quiet reproof that 
produced an instant change in the bearing of the exec- 
utive. A boat was instantly lowered, the wreck visited, 
and the young couple taken from it and conveyed to 
the Bunting. The girl was unconscious — the boy so 
exhausted that he could not articulate a syllable — but 
he was clinging to the insensible girl with such tenacity 
that actual force was necessary to detach his cramped 
fingers from her. 

“ Well, here’s a curious affair !” exclaimed Captain 
Strong, as soon as he had taken a rapid survey of the 
rescued couple. “ Bring the boy into the cabin !” 

Saying this, he led the way thither with the uncon- 
scious girl, bearing her in his arms with a tenderness 
that seemed paternal. 

“ A queer wreck !” commented Medlar, as he gave 
orders for the resumption of the brig’s course. “ Looks 
like a sort of life-boat !” 

“ She is a life-boat, mate !” returned Rodding. “Didn’t 
you see the rope running around her under her gun- 
wale, and to which the boy was clinging?” 

From the boat itself, the speculations of the two men 
were promptly transferred to the young couple who had 
been taken from it. 

“ They’re a queer batch !” said Medlar to his familiar. 
“You may laugh at me, Rodding, but I am annoyed at 
this whole business 1” 

“ You are foolish enough, then. What harm can 
come of a couple of children ?” 

“ I don’t see any harm yet ; but as a gnat can tease an 
elephant, it is quite possible that the young couple will 
be in our way.” 

Rodding smiled as grimly as contemptuously. 


The Salem Trader . 


77 


“ Even in that case it won’t be a great deal of trouble 
to get rid of them,” he said. “A gnat can tease an 
elephant, to be sure, but a gnat is readily killed !” 

In the meantime, Captain Strong was devoting him- 
self to the restoration of the young couple, seconded by 
Cuddle and two or three of the best-hearted sailors 
aboard of the Bunting , and it was not long before they 
began to revive, throwing off the deadly chill with 
which they had been seized, and slowly regaining the 
strength which had been so well-nigh exhausted. 

“ Perhaps you will soon be able to tell us who you 
are, my lad,” said the kind-hearted commander, when 
the eyes of the boy had intelligently taken in the scene 
around him. 

“ Yes, sir,” was the boy’s answer, as he looked up, with 
an air of joyous relief, from the pale features of his com- 
panion, who was giving numerous signs of her speedy 
restoration to consciousness. “We are Arty and Elgie — ” 

An amused smile flitted across every face, including 
the countenence of the commander. 

“Arty and Elgie Seaborn !” finished the lad, making 
a violent effort. 

The couple thus rescued in the last stages of exhaus- 
tion, were indeed our young hero and heroine, who had 
drifted during the forenoon exactly into the track of 
the Bunting. 

The names articulated with such difficulty by the 
youth did not signify a great deal of course, to any of 
the hearers, none of them having heard them before. 
But every one present was struck by the noble and 
intelligent bearing of the lad, and by the gentle, refined 
beauty of the girl. 

“ Take this, my lad,” said Captain Strong, proffering 
a rare cordial. 

The boy took the dose in silence. 


73 


The Young Castaways, 


“ You will soon be able to tell us who you are,” con- 
tinued the commander. 

“ I — I can do that now, sir !” 

He proceeded to do so, not without a great deal of 
painful effort, and not without frequent pauses to look 
after his companion. 

“ And now to tell us how you came in such an awful 
fix,” suggested Captain Strong. 

Ever cautious and thoughtful, Arty raised himself 
upon one elbow — for he had been laid upon the floor of 
the cabin — and turned a keen look of inquiry upon the 
commander. 

“ Who ar eyou, sir ?” he then asked. 

The captain smiled indulgently, and hastened to 
make himself and his vessel known to our hero. 

“ And whither are you bound, sir ?” pursued the lad. 

“ To the west coast of Africa !” 

“ But won’t you turn back, sir ?” 

“ What should I turn back for ?” asked Captain Strong. 

“ Why, to land Elgie and me !” 

“ No. I can’t turn back in such a breeze as this, my 
lad—” 

“ Not even if — ” 

He hesitated, with a visible tremor of apprehension. 

“ Not even to relieve the anxiety of your parents, who 
doubtless believe you to be dead,” declared Captain 
Strong. “ You will have to go with me to the west 
coast of Africa !” 

The hearty joy and relief with which Arty clasped 
the hand of the commander at this assurance, surprised 
that worthy greatly. 

“ Oh, I am so glad !” cried the boy. 

“ And I,” piped up a shrill, quavering voice, that 
caused about as much excitement in the little crowd as 
would have been produced by the fall of a bomb-shell. 


The Salem Trader . 


79 


This last speaker, of course, was Elgie. 

She had recovered her senses. 

“ Hallo !” exclaimed Capt. Strong, delightedly, as he 
petted the curly head of the little maiden. “ So you 
are around, are you ? How do you feel ?” 

“ First-rate, sir. Happy as I can be, sir,” after she 
had taken one good look into the honest eyes of the 
commander. “ But, oh, so very, very tired !” 

“ Naturally enough, my little dear, after what you 
have been through,” commented Capt. Strong. “ Take 
a little dose of this, my dear, as your brother has just 
done, and it will do you ever so much good, I assure 
you.” 

The girl swallowed the cordial, and then nestled her- 
self in the wrappings with which the thoughtful com- 
mander had supplied her. 

“ And now Arty is going to tell us how you and he 
came to be in such a fix,” resumed Capt. Strong. “ We 
are very curious to know how it happened. What can 
two such young folks as you have been doing with that 
boat ?” 

“We were running away, sir,” declared Arty, with 
earnest directness. 

“ Running away ?” echoed the commander. “ Good 
gracious ! What next ?” 

“ The boat was running away with us, I mean,” 
amended Arty, after encountering a warning look from 
Elgie. “We went to sleep in the boat, and she broke 
adrift in the night, and — But I’ll begin at the begin- 
ning, sir, and tell you how it all happened.” 

Confirmed in this resolve by another look from Elgie, 
he took up their mutual life-history at its earliest com- 
mencement, as far as known to them, and briefly 
narrated the events with which their young lives had 


So 


The Young Castaways . 


been enlivened. What a very curious narrative it 
seemed to all the hearers ! 

“ I have told you all these things, sir,” finished the 
boy, “ because you look so kind and good, and because 
you have promised to take us with you to the coast of 
Africa.” 

“ Your confidence in me is not misplaced, my lad,” 
said Capt. Strong, with grave interest. “ I must take 
you to Africa, of course. Unless we should meet a ship 
in which you can go back — ” 

“ Oh, we don’t wish to go back, sir,” Arty hastened to 
declare. 

“ In that case you can remain where you are as long 
as you please. Everything aboard this brig is at your 
service, and everybody, including its commander, and 
all you have to do is to rest and take comfort.” 

A long sigh of relief came from the young couple in 
concert. 

“ How good you are, sir,” murmured Arty. 

“ Just as good as you can be, sir,” supplemented Elgie, 
as one of her little hands clasped the great, shaggy paw 
of the old sea-dog. “ Arty and I will be perfectly happy 
with you, sir, and we shall both soon be big enough and 
strong enough to pay our way.” 

The captain laughed at this assurance. 

“ In the meantime,” he said, “ I am ready to take you 
both upon trust. “ Here, my little dear,” and he threw 
open the door of a state-room, “ is a room you can have 
all to yourself, and I have lots of silks and laces, and 
things that you can make up and wear, and fit yourself 
up just like any princess. And here, young man,” he 
added, turning to the boy, as he opened the door of a 
second stateroom, “ is an establishment of which you 
can have instant possession !” 

The young couple embraced the great-hearted com- 


Arty as a Cabin-Boy . 


81 


mander in concert and then embraced each other. They 
were already at home upon the great waters. 

But at that instant Medlar and his familiar turned 
away from the entrance of the cabin, with angry and 
sneering expressions upon their repulsive features. 

“ It’s a pity to spoil that touching little romance down 
there !” muttered Medlar, “ but we shall have to spoil it !” 

And thus, while all was bright and smiling immedi- 
ately around the young couple, a cloud of darkness was 
gathering above them ! 


4 

CHAPTER IX. 

ARTY AS A CABIN-BOY. 

Within a few hours after their timely rescue by the 
Salem trader, our young hero and heroine were as well 
as ever, save from the extreme fatigue resulting from 
their long struggle with wind and wave for their lives. 

Their escape had been, in fact, a very narrow one, 
and would not have been possible but for the excep- 
tional and peculiar character of their boat. 

They had been able, at the instant of the boat’s cap- 
sizing, to secure a firm hold in the stout loops running 
along its side, and in due course — the wind and sea 
moderating — had climbed upon the upturned bottom, 
clinging to the centre-board. 

And here they had clung during all the long hours of 
the morning. 

The strength of the girl had given out first, and such 
a season of terror had taken possession of her, as she 


82 


The You?ig Castaways . 


found her fingers refusing their office, that she had be- 
come unconscious. 

What Arty could have done in that horrible situation 
had it been long continued, it is idle to speculate ; but 
affairs had scarcely reached the sad state indicated, when 
his feverish glances rested upon a sail that was rapidly 
approaching. 

How well he fought the fight remaining has been 
already indicated. 

About the middle of the following afternoon, when 
the couple were considerably refreshed and rested, they 
paid a visit to the deck with Captain Strong, who seemed 
to become young in showing them through the brig and 
in answering their numerous questions, and in witness- 
ing their astonishment. 

“ You don’t feel sea- sick at all, then ?” was one of his 
first questions. 

“ Not a bit, sir,” replied Arty, speaking for himself 
and for Elgie. “ What is it to be sea-sick ?” 

At this question, there was a general laugh from the 
sailors, who were constantly gathering around the young 
couple. 

“ Well, if you don’t know what it is,” returned Captain 
Strong, “ pray Heaven that you never may ! To be 
sea-sick — really sea-sick — is to throw up everything you 
have eaten for six months previous and your boots 
with it !” 

“ Goodness ! how dreadful it must be,” commented 
Elgie, excitedly. “ Oh, no, Captain Strong, I was never, 
never sea-sick !” 

“ Then you may safely say that you are a sailor, and 
so may Arty,” said the commander. “ Perhaps I had 
better enter you upon the ship’s books, and give you 
regular wages !” 


Arty as a Cabin-Boy. 


83 


“ Oh, if you only would, sir !" exclaimed our hero, 
instantly jumping at the chance. 

“ Why, are you serious ?" asked Capt Strong. 

“ Certainly, sir — if you are." 

“ Well, what can you do ?’ 

“ Anything you set me at, sir." 

“ And so can I, sir," spoke np Elgie, quickly. “ I 
steered the ship for Arty, and he showed me how." 

“ The ship ? Oh, you mean the boat we found bottom 
upwards ? Well, is not the fix we found the boat in a 
great argument against your efficiency in steering, my 
little woman ?" 

“ No, sir — not a bit of it. It was not I who upset the 
boat, but Arty." 

The commander turned smilingly to the boy. 

“ How is this, my lad ?" he asked. “ Is your sister 
doing you full justice ?" 

“ I am afraid she is, sir. I upset the boat by raising 
the sail/* 

“ You did ? Well, you needn’t look glum about it. I 
once lost a brig like this on the coast of Morocco, and 
all by setting sail, Arty. If I had never set sail, that 
brig would have been in the port of Salem to this day.’» 

Here there was another general laugh from the sail- 
ors. Everybody seemed unusually happy — everybody 
save the first mate, Mr. Medlar, and his familiar, Rod- 
ding, who stood apart, looking with ill-concealed con- 
tempt and disgust upon the young couple and their new 
friends. 

“ In fact, every ship that was ever lost was lost by 
setting sail, " continued Captain Strong, as he patted 
Arty admiringly upon the head ; “ so that you need not 
have the least mortification about the loss of yours." 

“ I was too anxious to turn back, sir," explained Arty. 
“ The truth was, sir, we had no provisions." 


84 


The Young Castaways . 


“ And couldn’t think of striking out for Guinea with- 
out them/’ laughed the captain. “Add to all those 
considerations the fact that you were upon your first 
voyage — ” 

“ Our second , sir,” corrected Elgie, gravely. 

At this there was another general explosion, every- 
body aboard of the brig being aware of the nature of 
the first voyage to which the girl thus made reference 
— that first fatal voyage in which the young couple had 
been cast upon the iron-bound coast of Massachusetts. 

“ In any case, it was a want of experience that cost 
our young navigator his ship,” continued Captain 
Strong. “ All I can say of him is what has been said 
of many an eminent commander — that his subsequent 
conduct was most noble and courageous. Living or 
dead, little girl, he wasn’t going to lose you. We had 
to fairly tear you asunder when we brought you aboard 
of the Bunting .” 

And here a great tear appeared in each of the eyes of 
the commander, and quite a shower in the eyes of our 
hero and our heroine, as they again flew into each other’s 
arms, for about the fortieth time since their rescue, at 
the recollection of their fearful perils. 

“ But our prospects being all now fair,” resumed 
Capt. Strong, “ I shall be pleased to teach you all I 
know about navigation or anything else, my boy.” 

Arty fairly capered in the joyous excitement this 
declaration caused him. 

“ Oh, if you will, sir,” he cried, “ I shall soon be able 
to make a good living.” 

“ As to that, my boy, I can give you a post now that 
will bring you all you can eat — and your sister, too, for 
that matter. Cuddle, here, is only an indifferent cabin- 
boy, and I will put you in the place he ought to fill, but 
does not.” 


Arty as a Cabin-Boy . 


85 


“ And Cuddle — what’ll he do, sir ?” 

“ Why, he can cuddle down in some corner and go to 
sleep, after filling his bread-basket ; and, between you 
and me, these are two of the principal things he 
is good for. Make yourself entirely easy about him, 
however. Even if you become cabin-boy, Cuddle, he will 
have all the business he can attend to. He is one of the 
best interpreters I can possibly have in my dealings 
with this people.” 

“ It is agreed, sir !” cried Arty, joyfully. “ I will be 
cabin-boy from this very minute !” 

“ Good,” commenced Capt. Strong, “ and I will give 
you three dollars a month. As to your sister — ” 

“ Oh, I am going to help the cook, sir,” Elgie hastened 
to say, as she sent an irresistible glance to the heart of 
that sable functionary. “ I need not be any expense 
at all to Arty. I am sure I can earn my own living, 
Captain Strong !” 

“ And so am I, my little dear,” said the commander. 
“ What do you say, Cuffee ? Do you want the young 
lady to help you ?” 

“ Golly ! I does, massa. Dat’s to say, I want her to 
come ’round and look on !” 

“ You don’t want her to work, then ?” 

“ Golly, massa, dem han’s was never made to clean 
pots and kettles — ” 

“ Well, there are lots and lots of things I can do,” 
interrupted Elgie, as stoutly as promptly, fearful of find- 
ing the path of her ambition closed. “ I can sweep 
and wipe dishes and bring water and tend the fire and 
take up the ashes and mend stockings and — ” 

“ Jerusalem!” interrupted Captain Strong. “ Why, 
here is an assistant, Cuffee, that we will not be able to 
get along without another day !” 


86 


The Young Castaways . 


“ Golly, golly, massa !” cried Cuffee, cutting a double 
shuffle. “ Ain’t she a smart ’un ?” 

“ It is settled, then !” declared Captain Strong. 
“ Arty is to be cabin boy and his sister is to be — well — 
housekeeper, or shipkeeper, whichever the keeper’s to 
call herself. And for this service I am to pay her a 
dollar every month — a whole, round, big, moon dollar — 
the said arrangement to continue until we all return to 
Salem. What say you both ?” 

“ It is agreed, sir !” said the young couple in chorus. 

“Very well. Clear the deck here, and Cuffee and 
Cuddle shall dance one of their native tear-arounds in 
honor of the bargain !” 

The dance was duly performed, to the great amaze- 
ment of the young couple, who had by this time forgot- 
ten all about their fatigues. 

The thoughtful kindness of Captain Strong, as thus 
displayed, was continued from day to day to the young 
couple, as the staunch brig flew on her way across the 
Atlantic. Both were happy in the posts half -playfully 
assigned them, and it is but justice to them to say that 
they were soon among the most consequential person- 
ages on the vessel. They were both delighted at the 
opportunity of earning their living, and especially at the 
prospect of earning money for themselves, and in their 
warm and grateful hearts already looked up to Captain 
Strong as to a father. 

Within three days, in fact, Arty had developed such a 
strong taste for navigation, that the old navigator was 
never tired of giving him instruction, or of answering 
the ten thousand questions with which our hero con- 
stantly plied him. And as the best sailors on the brig, 
taking their cue from the commander, lost no oppor- 
tunity of rendering themselves useful to the boy, he was 
soon able to reef and steer, to box the compass, to work 


Arty as a Cabin-Boy. 


87 


out the ordinary business of dead reckoning, to take an 
observation, and to cipher out all the usual problems 
and operations of a voyage. 

The simple truth was the boy was an apt scholar, his 
whole soul thirsting after knowledge, because he felt 
sure that knowledge would assure his own future and 
that of his companion. 

“ Perhaps I shall command a ship some day/’ he said 
proudly to the girl, when he had taken an observation 
and established his position with tolerable correctness 
without the least assistance from Captain Strong. 
“And when I do, what nice things I will bring you 
from India and China.” 

“You forget, Arty, I shall be there with you.” 

“ Why, of course.” 

As good luck would have it, Captain Strong had 
brought aboard for this voyage a large chest full of 
books, including many books of travels and voyages 
and works of general information, and he was not a 
little astonished to note the zeal with which his young 
friends applied themselves to them. 

But a greater joy than the perusal of books was one 
the captain himself was able to afford them, with his 
long and glowing narratives of the adventures he had 
experienced and the countries he had visited in the 
course of his forty years of life upon the ocean. 

There was still one other great pleasure Captain 
Strong vras able to give his young friends — that of 
handling and examining many a rare curiosity he had 
collected in the course of his long wanderings. His 
baggage was full of all sorts of shells and cabinets and 
puzzles and pictures, curious tools and instruments, 
wonderful textures of cloth and matting, and treasures 
of nature and art too numerous to mention. 

Their nominal duties attended to, the young couple 


88 


The Young Castaways. 


were in the habit of spending several hours of every 
day in the store-room thus opened to them, and no 
greater delight did Captain Strong have than to sit and 
watch them as they thus rummaged amid his valuable 
collections. 

“What is this, Captain Strong?” asked Arty, one 
evening, as he stumbled upon an object in one of the 
captain’s berths he had not before noticed. 

“That,” replied the commander, as he dragged the 
object out into the cabin, “is a life-preserver — a suit of 
rubber clothing — that was presented to me by its 
inventor.” 

“ Did you ever wear it ?” 

“ Never, for two good reasons — it is much too small 
for me, and I have never been in any position to need 
it.” 

“ How funny one would look in such a rig as that !” 
exclaimed Elgie. “ Suppose you put it on, Arty, if 
Captain Strong will let you.” 

“ Oh, you may and welcome !” 

Making a great deal of sport with the suit, the boy 
proceeded to ensconce himself in it, and then blew up 
the different air chambers in the different garments, 
making himself look about as large as the renowned 
Daniel Lambert. Not merely Elgie, but the jolly cap- 
tain himself laughed till he cried at the remarkable 
spectacle the lad presented. 

“ You ought to show yourself to Merrick in that rig,” 
said the commander. “ How he would laugh !” 

Merrick was ari old sailor who had been very kind to 
the young couple, and had taught the lad the greater 
portion of his knots and splices. 

“ I’ll show myself to him,” returned Arty, quickly, 
delighted at the thought of the sensation he would ere- 


Arty as a Cabin-Boy . 


89 


ate in the forecastle. “ Excuse me a few moments, 
Captain Strong. I will soon be back, Elgie.” 

And with this he slipped from the cabin. 

A darker night than that which rested upon the scene 
as Arty Seaborn thus reached the deck, he had never 
witnessed, neither moon nor stars being visible, and yet 
the wind was as fine as the sea was calm. 

Arty paid little heed to the darkness, however. His 
every thought was upon the surprise Merrick would 
exhibit on seeing him. 

Passing swiftly along the deck, the lad was conscious 
enough of the presence of the watch, but such was the 
intensity of the darkness that he could not see them. It 
was, in fact, one of those darknesses to be found only 
upon the ocean — such darkness as rested upon Egypt, 
in all probability, when the inhabitants were obliged to 
feel their way from one room to another. 

As familiar as the best of the sailors with every portion 
of the brig, Arty did not have any difficulty in making 
his way to the forecastle, into which he descended with- 
out the least audible sound, he being barefooted, and 
without becoming even vaguely visible, there not being 
any light in the forecastle or upon the deck near him. 

Full of the merriment he expected to make, the boy 
advanced in utter silence to Merrick’s berth, and stood 
motionless near it a moment to suppress the incipient 
laughter which was threatening to betray his presence. 
How important was to be that moment — as well as the 
playful errand by which he was preoccupied — the boy 
could not have even dimly imagined ! 



CHAPTER X. 

INTO DEADLY PERIL. 

The disappearance of Mrs. Hillston from her anxious 
home, as related in a former chapter, had taken place 
in the most natural manner, without mystery and with- 
out complication. 

Stricken with a burning fever, which acted with 
especial intensity upon the brain, she was not long in 
awakening from the slumbers into which she had fallen, 
and when she thus awoke it was with a mind crowded 
with delirium. 

Conscious only of a terrible unrest and oppression — 
sensitive only to the woes which had for so many long 
years darkened her existence — she started up abruptly, 
looking around upon the dimly lighted apartment, upon 
the motionless figure of her sleeping maid, and upon all 
the features of the scene of which she was the centre. 

“ Sombody is ill !” she murmured, with some percep- 
tion of the nature of her surroundings, but without any 
just conception of them, her thoughts being in a whirl 
and a haze. “ Why is not the doctor sent for ? What is 
the matter ?” 

In an instant she was out of bed and hastily dressing. 

“ Strange that there is no one to see to anything,” 
she mused. “ Poor thing,” she added, with a pitying 
glance at her sleeping maid. ‘ ‘Poor Mrs. Willset ! I 
suppose she is worn out with all her troubles — as 1 am.” 

90 



Into Deadly Peril 


9 l 


and she sighed wearily. “ Let her sleep. I can go for 
the doctor myself.” 

It is impossible to follow exactly the train of thought 
pursued by the afflicted lady, if indeed there was any 
sequence in her sentiments, or any relevancy between 
her impressions and her acts. It is likely that she was 
for a moment entirely oblivious of her own personality, 
and was only vaguely conscious that something was 
wrong. Be that as it may, she dressed herself quickly 
and in silence, enveloped herself in a water-proof cloak, 
and stole noiselessly from the dwelling. 

The direction she took at first was that leading to the 
residence of Mr. Moore, and it is probable that the 
intention of summoning him was more or less defined 
in her mind. But long ere she reached the neighbor- 
hood of the physician’s house, she found herself at the 
cross-road leading to the cemetery in which her husband 
was buried, and this circumstance diverted all her 
thoughts into a new channel. 

“ It is there that he is reposing !” she murmured aloud, 
as she started violently. “ And in this dark night, too ! 
Oh, why does he not come home ? I must find him ! I 
must find him !” 

Turning into the cross-road, she hurried in the direc- 
tion of the distant cemetery, with a speed with which 
only her wild delirium could have endowed her weak 
frame at a moment of such profound exhaustion. 

Panting, tottering at every step, she finally reached 
her husband’s grave, and sank down upon the broad 
stone with which it was covered, moaning and wringing 
her hands and looking as eagerly as wildly around. 

“ Where are you, Abner ?” she called. “ Oh, come to 
me ! Come to me ! Where are you ?” 

The words had scarcely left her lips when she started 
to her feet as if electrified, and stood staring into the 


92 


The Young * Castaways . 


chill night air, with a countenance expressive of aston- 
ished ecstacy. 

It was evident that she thought she beheld her hus- 
band before her. 

“ Oh ! why do you not come to me ?” she cried reproach- 
fully, as she extended her arms. “ Why have you been 
away from me so long ? Am I not yuur own wife ? Oh ! 
speak to me ! Speak to me !” 

An instant she stood thus staring into vacancy, and 
then she dropped heavily upon the cold sward. 

The vision of her delirium had vanished. 

Groaning and weeping she rocked herself to and fro, 
still wringing her hands. 

4< Not one word !” she gasped. “ He is angry ! He 
knows that I am a weak and perjured creature. He 
knows that Runnel has been here — his deadly enemy. 
He knows that I have promised to be Runnel’s wife if 
the children are restored to me ! And his curse is 
upon me !” 

To have judged by the convulsions of grief that 
agitated her at that moment, one would have thought 
that she was about to die. 

For several minutes she raved wildly, explaining the 
motives which had influenced her in her dealings with 
Runnel, and then, sinking into a despairing silence, she 
gathered herself slowly upon her feet. 

How like a spirit she looked amid the grim shadow's ! 

She stood like a statue several minutes. The incubus 
of an indescribable despair was evidently upon her. 

Then she tottered away in the direction from which 
she had come, soon emerging from the cemetery into 
the road. One of her hands was clutched tightly to her 
breast, the other pressed convulsively her burning fore- 
head. 

“Yes, yes!” she suddenly broke out, in the wildest 


Into Deadly Peril. 


93 


agony, as she staggered on without any consciousness 
of her course. “ Abner is angry with me. He will not 
speak to me. He has hidden himself in the darkness. 
He knows that Runnel is coming back again ! Oh ! I 
shall never see my husband again — never, never !” 

An instant she hushed her wild sobs, pausing and 
looking around as if yet hoping to hear or see her hus- 
band, and then she tottered on again. 

As a natural sequence to the thought that she had been 
abondoned by her husband, soon came the fear that she 
was pursued by Runnel. 

A wild fright took possession of her, as was indicated 
by the glances she cast over her shoulder, and by her 
quickened footsteps. 

“ That wicked man is coming,” she ejaculated. “ He 
means to hold me to my promise ! Oh ! he is pursuing 
me ! Whichever way I turn, I see him ! How can I 
escape him ? Oh, who will help me ?” 

Breaking into an unsteady but rapid run, as these 
frenzied wails came from her lips, she turned into King 
street, at its intersection with Meeting, and took her way 
toward the city, not pausing in her flight until she was 
abreast of Washington Race Course. Here, between 
Grove and Moultrie streets, she almost came to a halt, 
looking wildly around ; and especially in the direction 
from which she had come. Her aspect was that of one 
who considers herself pursued, and who is merely gain- 
ing breath for the renewal of a terrible chase. 

In good truth, the poor woman was now dominated 
by the thought that Runnel was pursuing her, and her 
whole soul was absorbed by the supposed necessity of 
making her escape. 

As ill-fortune would have it, a belated and half-inebri- 
ated individual, who had probably been honoring some 
convivial party with his presence, came along Moultrie 


94 


The Young Castaways . 


street just as Mrs. Hillston was crossing it, and catching 
sight of her, hailed her with a rude joviality and curiosity. 
A fact of this kind sufficed to lend an air of the grim- 
mest reality to all the illusions under which she was 
laboring. 

“There he is again !” was the gasping cry that came 
from her. 

A prey to this terrifying conviction, the hapless lady 
bounded away again, and at a rate of speed that soon 
left her brawling tormentor out of sight and hearing 
behind her. Her course still lay directly toward the 
city, past Huger and the other lonely streets adjacent — 
not that she had any fixed destination in her mind, but 
only that she was trying to distance her supposed pur- 
suer. 

She hurried on in this wild flight until abreast of the 
orphan asylum and the citadel, until all trace of the 
belated inebriate had been lost, and until her unnatural 
strength was well-nigh exhausted. She was now with- 
in the thickly settled portion of the city, but at that late 
hour not a soul was abroad in the vicinity save the official 
guardians of the night. 

Seating herself in an obscure door-way, the poor lady 
remained motionless several minutes, recovering her 
breath and looking out with wild eyes upon the few 
signs of life around her. 

And then she was off again, still going she knew not 
whither. 

She had not gone far, however, after those few 
moments of rest, when she chanced to pass a low tip- 
pling place, the door of which was open, and in front of 
which stood several half-tipsy young men who were in 
the act of taking a maudlin leave of one another. 

“ See here, boys !” cried one of them, as he indicated 


Into Deadly Peril 


95 


Mrs. Hillston. “ Who is this ? The witch of Endor or 
some fairer witch ? Suppose we see !” 

“ Ten dollars that you dare not kiss her,” returned a 
coward, “ and twenty dollars that you cannot !” 

“ Done, in both cases,” said the former speaker, with 
a coarse laugh. “ You’ll see how easy it is to earn 
thirty dollars, and at the same time make the acquaint- 
ance of a pretty woman !” 

A general laugh greeted this sally, and was followed 
by ironical cheers, as the taker of the two bets set 
about winning them. But he had not taken half a dozen 
swift steps toward Mrs Hillston, when she bounded 
away like the wind, more frightened than ever. 

“ Go it, Lally,” called the hair-brained young fellow 
who had proposed the bets. “ If you win my money I’ll 
enter you for the next sweepstakes and go my pile upon 
you.” 

Heedless of this bantering, the man addressed as 
Lally exerted himself to the utmost in the race upon 
which he had entered. What was his astonishment to 
find that he did not gain a step upon the fugitive ! 

“ Who can she be ?” was naturally his next thought. 
“ And what is she out for at such a late hour ?” 

Piqued and curious, he held to the pursuit until his 
flaccid and untrained limbs gave out, and then he came 
to a halt, just in time to see the flying figure he had 
been pursuing disappear around a distant corner. 

If the young reprobate had failed to win his bets 
however, he had not failed to throw Mrs. Hillston into 
the deepest terror. She did not cease her flight at the 
cessation of the pursuit, but held on, panting and wild- 
eyed, hastening nearer and nearer to the Ashley river. 
Perhaps some light attracted her in that direction, or 
perhaps her movements were governed by the profound 
silence reigning in that quarter. She was soon upon 


9 6 


The Young Castaways . 


one of the wharves between Bennet’s Mill Pond and 
Chisholm’s Mills; and here, panting and utterly exhaust- 
ed of even her unnatural strength, she sank down upon 
a pile of boards in a state approaching unconsciousness 
as well as in a feverish delirium. 

She had remained in this position only a few minutes 
when a policeman who had witnessed her advent upon 
the wharf slowly approached her, with many a curious 
and insolent glance. 

“ What are you doing here ?” he demanded, roughly. 
“ Who are you ?” 

It was several minutes before he could secure the rec- 
ognition of his presence, but with the returning strength 
of the poor fugitive came back a perception of her sur- 
roundings. 

“Who are you, I say ?” repeated the policeman, chok- 
ing her roughly. “ What are you doing here ? Speak.” 

Mrs. Hillston stared at the man in speechless terror. 
Perhaps she took him for Runnel in disguise, or for 
merely an emissary of her enemy. Be that as it may, 
she screamed loudly as she felt the rude hand of the 
coarse official upon her. 

“Oh, you needn’t squawk!” he exclaimed, angrily. 
“ I dare say I have seen you before, old girl. You’ve 
been treated once or twice too much, I suppose. No 
airs now, mind you, or I’ll take you to the calaboose ! ” 

A horror of the man and his words was inevitable. 
In an instant Mrs. Hillston had regained her feet, and 
entered upon another wild and swift flight. 

“ Oh, that won’t work, my lady ! ’’exclaimed the police- 
man, as he bounded after the fugitive. “ I’ll know what 
you are doing here at this hour of the night. I’ll arrest 
you !” 

Familiar with all the intricacies of the place, and 


Into Deadly Peril 


97 


being as agile as strong, he soon cut off the flight of the 
fugitive shoreward, turning her back. 

“ I have you now,” he cried exultingly, as she bound- 
ed along the wharf in the direction of the river. “ You 
may as well give up the attempt. It will be all the 
worse for you if you make me any more trouble.” 

Seeing that no attention was given these remarks, he 
bent every energy in the pursuit, expecting the fugitive 
to halt, but he was soon horrified to note that she did 
not seem to be aware that she was nearing the end of 
the wharf. 

“ Hold on there !” he shouted, in the sharp accents of 
a sudden terror. “ You’ll be in the river in a moment 
more !” 

He spoke too late ! 

Even as his words were still resounding in the air, 
there was a sudden splash just before him, and he found 
himself alone upon the edge of the wharf ! 

Taken possession of by the swift current of the river, 
Mrs. Hillston was swept rapidly away, still splashing 
and struggling. 

“ I’m no swimmer !” muttered the policeman, recoiling. 
“ And no boat is near !” 

He sent a swift glance around. No one was in sight. 
The tragic event of the moment seemed to have had no 
witnesses. 

“ As well let her slide !” muttered the officer. ' “ I shall 
be dismissed the force if she is saved ; and perhaps 
treated to a worse dose, as I was chasing her at the 
moment of the accident. I’ll slip back to my post and 
keep silent, the more readily as she is doubtless beyond 
help !” 

He lost no time in acting upon this resolution, and did 
not so much as look again at that still struggling figure 
as it was borne away by the river’s current ! 



CHAPTER XI. 

MRS. HILLSTON’S PRESERVATION. 

The peril of Mrs. Hillston had been noted notwith- 
standing the opinion to the contrary of the policeman 
who had been so instrumental in causing it. 

Just below the wharf from which the delirious lady 
had leaped in her terror — at the wharf next above Chis- 
holm’s Mills, in fact — a middle-aged man, in the garb 
of a seaman, had lowered himself into a small boat a few 
moments previous to the “ accident,” and was making 
his preparations to push off to a large Baltimore clipper 
which lay anchored on the west side of the channel 
almost abreast of him. 

The wild screams of Mrs. Hillston, as she fled from 
the policeman, having reached the ears of the man in 
the boat, he leaped upon the wharf in time to note the 
catastrophe that immediately followed, the distance 
between him and the scene of trouble being inconsider- 
able, and the adjacent lamps giving him a good view of 
his surroundings. 

The amazement of this man, as he watched the hesi- 
tation of the policeman to raise an alarm or to go to the 
lady’s rescue, was exceeded only by his disgust at the 
official’s villainous flight. 

“ The infernal coward !” exclaimed the astonished 
watcher. “ What does he mean by that conduct ? Is 
he really going to leave the woman to drown ?” 

[98] 



Mrs. Hills ton s Preservation. 


99 


While asking himself these questions the seaman 
sprang into his boat and pushed off to the rescue, rowing 
with a skill and vigor which proved him to be an accom- 
plished oarsman. As the current was every instant 
bringing Mrs. Hillston down the river, while the boat was 
swiftly descending it, the rescuer was promptly beside 
the object of his zealous efforts, and the next instant 
thereafter, the half-drowned lady was drawn into the 
boat, quite unconscious. 

The point where this timely rescue was effected was 
so far from the shore and from all the street-lamps, that 
the proceedings of the rescuer would not have been 
noticed in the darkness had the wharves been covered 
with people. 

But, as a further assurance of secresy, a glance of the 
seaman along the line of the wharves assured him that 
not a soul was within range of his vision. 

For a few moments he hesitated as to his. course, and 
then he laid the insensible lady in the bottom of the boat 
and seized the oars, rowing vigorously toward the clipper 
already mentioned, whose outlines were barely visible, 
but whose position was perfectly indicated by its lights. 

The row was a considerable one, alike in point of time 
and of exertion, the boat having drifted quite a distance 
down stream, and the current being strong ; but the 
solitary oarsman was soon under the bows of the clipper, 
and clinging to the tautened chain of its upstream 
anchor. 

“ Throw me a rope, Awker !” called the seaman. 

There was no response. 

“ Do you hear there ?” shouted the oarsman, sharply, 
he having no little difficulty to maintain his position 
against the rushing tide. “ Are you asleep as usual ? 
Throw me a rope !” 


IOO 


The Young Castaways . 


A man had appeared on the forecastle, and a rope was 
instantly lowered. 

“ All right,” called the man in the boat, whose air, no 
less than his garb, attested that he was an officer aboard 
of the clipper. “ I have it. Make fast and hold hard.” 

Everything was soon secured, and the boat, with its 
living freight, was moored safely under the clipper’s 
bows. 

“ And now send down another rope,” called the officer 
to his man, as the latter peered over the side. “ There’s 
a basket to come up ?” 

“ Aye, aye, sir !” 

The rope being duly lowered, the officer made the 
unconscious lady fast to it. 

u Haul away !” he then commanded — “ haul away, but 
be careful not to upset the basket.” 

The man hauled accordingly, giving expression to his 
wonderment in constant growls and exclamations. 

“ A singular basket, that, Mr. Gredin !” he cried, as the 
lady’s form neared him. “ Sakes alive ! if it isn’t a 
woman !” and he toiled with all his might. “ How won- 
derful !” 

“ Steady !” called Mr. Gredin from below. “ If you 
so much as tear a ruffle, I’ll threw you overboard, Awker! 
So, there you are !” 

The lady had indeed reached the deck of the clipper 
in safety. 

“ And now give me a chance at that same rope !” 
called the officer. 

The rope was lowered again. No sooner had it reached 
Mr. Gredin than he seized it, and went up the side as 
rapidly as a spider. 

“ Bring the lady into the cabin,” he then commanded, 
with quick intonations. “ You have a light burning !” 

“ Always, sir — according to orders !” 


Mrs. Hills ton'-s Preservation. 


IOI 


* 


“ And was you on the look-out for me, too — ‘ accord- 
ing- to orders Y ” sneered Gredin, 

“ No, sir. I had given up expecting you, and was 
about to turn in V* 

“ Is anybody aboard with you — -any of your infernal 
chums ?” 

“ No, sir !” 

“ I am glad of that. Steady I” 

Thus talking by the way, the two men transported 
Mrs. Hillston between them to the cabin, where they 
laid her upon a sofa and covered her with a couple of 
blankets. 

“ Good heavens !” ejaculated Gredin, the instant the 
cabin lamp gleamed full upon the pale features of the 
rescued lady. “ Heavenly king ! if she isn’t Mrs. 
Hillston !” 

“ Mrs. Hillston ?” echoed Awker, who was a bony, 
formidable-looking personage, at least six feet in 
height. u The Mrs. Hillston Cap’n Runnel went to see 
lately ?” 

“ The very one ! You will remember that I pointed 
her out to you in the streets of Charleston afterwards ! 
She is that same Mrs. Hillston, Awker ! It’s strange 
how she came in such a fix as this !” 

For a moment he stood motionless, in a sort of stupor 
of amazement. 

“ And strange that / have the good fortune to be her 
rescuer !” resumed Gredin, with a thrill of joy in his 
voice. “ It’s the luck of a life-time crowded into a 
moment” 

“She is wet as a rag,” ejaculated Awker, whose 
astonishment seemed to have become chronic. “ She 
has been in the water !” 

“ ‘ And thereby hangs a tale,’ Awker,” said Gredin, 
with ill-concealed excitement. “ But actions, not words, 


102 


The Young Castaways . 


+ 


is what is now required by me. We must have a doctor 
immediately.” 

“ You’ll have a good time in getting one aboard of 
the ship at this hour of the night,” said Awker. “ Why 
did you bring the lady here ?” 

“ Because — because my good luck was with me for 
once,” returned Gredin. “ But don’t ask me any ques- 
tions. Answer me a few, and as quickly as possible. 
Do you suppose you can bring me a doctor within 
thirty minutes ?” 

“’And if I could, do you want that doctor to know 
your secret — that the lady is here ?” 

“ True. What am I thinking of? But don’t you know 
some old negro woman or man who has some notion of 
medicine — ” 

“ Hold !” interrupted Awker, excitedly. “ The very 
thing ! An old negress called Maum Blacky — a sort of 
witch and fortune-teller, who nominally belongs to the 
Rhett estate, but who is in reality as independent as 
you or I, she being too unearthly for anybody to be too 
intimate with.” 

“ And where is she ?” 

“ In Lynch street, hardly a stone’s throw from the 
river.” 

“ Could you stir her up readily at such an hour ?” 
pursued Gredin, anxiously, as he looked at his watch. 

“ Certainly. It’s the best hour in which to find her — 
the very hour in which the worst class of her customers 
usually put in an appearance.” 

“ And this old creature, you say, is a doctress as well 
as a fortune-teller ?” 

“Doctress or demon — I don’t know which,” replied 
Awker. “The essential is, she performs some very 
remarkable cures, and has performed several to my 
own personal knowledge. ” 


Mrs. Hillstoris Preservation. 


103 


“ Then go for her at once, Awker,” cried Gredin, 
with deep excitement. “ Bring her aboard as soon as 
you can. Do not take no for an answer. Kidnap the 
old sorceress if necessary. Some of the boys are at 
Black Ralph’s, and will lend you a helping hand if you 
should have to resort to stern measures to make her 
consent to coming.” 

“ Oh, the chink of gold would induce her to enter 
tophet !” declared Awker. “ Besides, she knows me. 
You can depend upon seeing her immediately.” 

“ Be off, then, like lightning.” 

Awker hastily left the clipper, making use of the boat 
so lately employed by Greden. 

u A glorious streak of luck !” exclaimed the latter, as 
he took a hasty turn in the cabin. “ There is no doubt 
about the lady's identity. Won't the captain be 
tickled !” 

A moan from the half-drowned lady called her rescuer 
to her side. Her large, wild eyes opened in terror upon 
him. 

“ You are safe, madame,” he said, with his politest 
bow and most reassuring voice. 

“ Oh ! where am I !” she cried, wildly. “ What has 
happened ?” 

“ You fell into the river, madam,” explained Gredin. 
“ I had the good fortune to be near enough to save you, 
and you are now aboard of the clipper of which I am in 
charge — in the absence of the captain !” 

“ And you — you — ” 

“ My name is Gredin, madam 1” 

“ You — you will not harm me ?” asked the poor lady, 
feverishly excited. 

“ Certainly not ; but will do everything in the world 
I can for you !” 


io4 


The Young Castaways. 


“ And you will not take me to him ?” she panted. 
“ Oh ! you will not take me to him ?” 

“ Of course not, madam,” declared Gredin, as sooth- 
ingly as possible. “ Do not have the least fear what- 
ever. I have sent a man for the doctor — ” 

“ Oh, yes, yes — the doctor !” she murmured. “ I was 
going for the doctor myself. But who is ill, sir ? Oh, 
tell me who is ill !” 

By this time the wild eyes of the lady, and her 
frenzied demeanor, had enlightened Gredin in regard 
to her situation. 

“ Here's a fine kettle of fish !” he said to himself, as 
he withdrew a few steps. “ She’s as mad as a March 
hare, and as sick — well, dangerously ill. Seems to me 
that I have put my foot into a deuced disagreeable 
mess !” 

He stood a full minute in a profound hesitation as to 
his course of action in the premises. 

“ After all, she is Mrs. Hillston,” he then said aloud, 
paying no heed to the moans and ejaculations of the 
lady, “ and it’s a mighty stroke of fortune for me to 
have her here. The troubles and cares in the case are 
light in comparison with the gains. She shall stay and 
be cared for.” 

He hastened to produce a flask of brandy, which he 
placed at Mrs. Hillston’s lips. 

“ Drink,” he enjoined. “ It will do you good.” 

She dashed the flask from her. 

“Perhaps that is as well,” thought Gredin, after 
scrutinizing her features a moment. “ She has a burn- 
ing fever, and yet is shivering with those cold gar-* 
ments. I don’t know what to do for her, I am sure.” 

In the mood he was in he was not displeased to find 
that the afflicted lady kept him pretty well employed 


Mrs. Hills tons Preservation. 


105 


with her questions and complaints until a hail from 
under the bows announced the return of Awker. 

“ Ah, good !” was his comment. “ Now we shall see 
our way clearer/' 

Rushing from the cabin, the entrance of which he 
locked, Gredin hastened to the bow of the clipper. 

“ Here I am !" he cried, in response to another 
hail. 

“ And here am I, if you please !" cried Awker. 

“ Bravo ! here's a rope ! What success ?" 

“ The best in the world !" 

“ Maum Blacky is with you, then ?" 

“Yes, as I told you she would be." 

It was no easy task for the two men to get the 
sorceress aboard, she being an immensely obese woman, 
but in such excitement as now possessed the couple a 
way was soon found, and she was shown into the cabin. 

“ You jes' leave us alone, chil'un," was her command, 
when she had taken one long look at Mrs. Hillston, 
“ and come back when I calls yer." 

The couple acted upon the hint, proceeding to the 
deck. 

“ You haven't dropped a word ashore about the lady's 
identity, I hope?" inquired Gredin. 

“ Not a word. But one thing I have done that will 
please you. I have engaged Maum Blacky to remain 
on board as long as necessary, and she has accordingly 
made her arrangements, so that there will be no surprise 
or wonder at her absence." 

“ Bravo ! ,; cried Gredin again. “The secret of Mrs. 
Hillston's existence is thus confined to this old negress 
and ourselves. Bravo, I say ! This will be good news 
for Captain Runnel !" 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE MUTINEERS. 

The silence around Arty, as he stood motionless in the 
forecastle of the Bunting , composing his smiling counte- 
nance, was suddenly broken. 

“ You are sure we are alone here, Rodding?” whis- 
pered a voice not three yards from the lad. 

“ Perfectly sure, mate. I took pains to see that much 
before 1 turned off the light !” 

The two speakers were Medlar and Rodding, as Arty 
instantly knew by their voices — the two men, in fact, 
who had seemed to bear him a grudge ever since his 
arrival on the brig, and who had never addressed half a 
dozen words to him, and then only when he had 
endeavored to conciliate them. 

“ Where is Merrick ?” pursued Medlar, who to judge 
by his voice, was seated upon the edge of a bunk near 
Rodding. 

“ He is steering,” was the answer. 

“ And Gillet and Mason ?” 

“ They are both somewhere aft !” 

“ And all the rest are housed under the boats, I sup- 
pose, telling stories ?” pursued Medlar. “ It is rather 
early to go to bed, that’s a fact. You are sure we are 
alone here, Rodding ?” 

Arty would have announced his presence — as nothing 
was further from his character than to listen to a con- 
[i°6] 


The Mutineers . 


107 


versation not intended for his ears, but before he could 
speak, Medlar resumed : 

“ I am glad of that. I shall now have a chance to 
talk to you about — about the project.” 

“ Speak low, then.” 

“ There is likely to be some one within hearing, 
then ?” sneered Medlar. 

“No, no — but men that talk of murder can’t talk too 
low.” 

“Hush ! hush !” enjoined Medlar, who seemed to be 
scared by the brutal frankness of this remark. “ Re- 
member the old proverb, ‘ Walls have ears ’ — even the 
walls of a ship !” 

A single word in this conversation had riveted Arty 
to the spot. 

That word was “ murder.” 

What did it mean ? Who was to be the victim ? 

The commander, of course. 

To reach that conclusion was for the boy to conclude 
to remain motionless and silent, and not betray his 
presence by so much as a loud breath. 

If any wickedness were being plotted, the lad was 
entitled to know it. 

“ Ought we to speak of the matter at all, just at pres- 
ent ?” demanded Rodding, in a whisper. 

“ Certainly, if we ever propose to do anything more 
than talk,” returned Medlar. “ Delays are dangerous. 
What is it that we want ?” 

“ That is easily stated, mate. We have been going to 
sea all our lives, and haven’t a dollar nor a place to lay 
our heads. We are as much slaves as if we had black 
hides and were living in South Carolina.” 

“ Them points is well settled, I believe,” said Medlar, 

with grim resolution. “ The only point in discussion, 


io8 


The Young Castaways . 


Rodding, is simply a question as to the best ways and 
means of bettering our condition.” 

“ Well, what field is open? Calyforny and Australy 
are doubtless well enough in their way, but it’s a long 
v’yage to either country — unless you go as an involun- 
tary exile to Botany Bay, and then the v’yage is short 
enough. Doubtless there are mountains of gold and 
silver on the earth, and river valleys as thickly strewn 
with diamonds as with dirt. The only difficulty in the 
case is the difficulty of putting your hand or foot upon 1 
the precise mountain or valley where these things are 
so plentiful. If a man could live a thousand years, and 
travel by balloon, he might learn an easy road to for- 
tune, but he can hardly do so under the present 
arrangement of affairs — at least I have not been able 
to.” 

“ Well, what better project than mine, Rodding, have 
you been able to discover !” 

“ Not any — not any !” 

“ Let’s understand it, then,” said Medlar, with grim 
resolution. “ In general terms, we propose to steal 
this vessel and everything aboard of it.” 

u Exactly, but under what conditions ? Shall we be 
obliged to kill the cap’n ?” 

“I expect he will force us to. You know what sort 
of a man he is ? Once let him get an inkling of our 
purpose, and he would fight like a tiger.” 

“ There’s one stout arm in our way, then,” commented 
Rodding. “ Who is with him ?” 

u Why Merrick, and Gillet and Mason, and so on — 
just one half of the crew, if we count the cook and 
Cuddle. As to that boy and girl they are not worth 
counting. All we have to do is to knock them on the 
head and throw them overboard the moment we are 
masters of the vessel.” 


The Mutineers . 


109 


“ I know a trick worth two of that,” said Rodding. 
“ The girl is pretty, and we had better save her — take 
her to the west coast with ns, and in due course of time 
either marry her to some Portuguese or Spanish trader 
who will pay liberally for her, or else cast lots for her 
ourselves.” 

“ Well, well, we can decide about the girl after the 
vessel is ours,” said Medlar. “ In the meantime, let’s 
decide when and how we are to seize the vessel. My 
preference would be for acting at once, while the cap’n 
is paying so much attention to that young couple and so 
little to us !” 

“ That’s a good idea, mate. Suppose we act imme- 
diately — this very night.” 

“ Agreed. It only remains to arrange just how we 
will proceed. The crew is about equally divided ; all I 
have named being for the cap’n and all the others for 
us. Suppose — ” 

Here the speaker paused abruptly and listened. 

“ Didn’t you hear somebody near us, Rodding ?” he 
resumed excitedly. 

“ Yes. I thought it was you, mate !” 

“ And I thought it was you, Rodding — ” 

“ I haven’t stirred an inch !” 

“ Nor I !” 

“ Then who is here ?” 

The question convulsed the soul of our hero on the 
instant, as will readily be imagined. It was Arty that 
had been heard moving in the forecastle, he having 
realized that it was time for him to retreat. 

“ Who is here, I say ?” repeated Rodding. 

“ Turn on your light and see !” 

Tl\p injunction naturally served to render our hero’s 
retrograde movement more rapid, but in the utter 
darkness it would have been next to impossible for him 


I IO 


The Young Castaways . 


to have found the entrance of the forecastle with any- 
thing like celerity. Realizing the difficult nature of 
the task before him, he extended his hands, feeling 
his way, and soon hurried — into the very arms of Med- 
lar ! 

In an instant the arms of the mate had closed upon 
the intruder with all the violence of a sudden and des- 
perate fright. 

“ I have him !” he ejaculated. “ Quick ! your lan- 
tern !” 

A flood of light was turned upon the scene at this 
juncture, the conspirators having a dark lantern at 
command, and both of them recognized Arty instantly, 
despite the strange garb in which they found him 
accoutered. 

“ That boy ?” gasped Rodding, as if he found it hard 
to believe the evidence of his senses. “ That cast- 
away ?*' 

“ As you see,” returned Medlar, producing a revolver. 
“ He has been listening to every word we have 
uttered.” 

There was such a menace underlying the consterna- 
tion of the two men that Arty was tempted to call for 
help. This temptation was written so legibly upon his 
countenance that the executive lost no time in cocking 
his pistol and in carrying it to the lad’s ear. 

H Not a word — not the least cry !” enjoined the ruffian 
sternly, “ or you are a dead boy ! What did you come 
here for ?” 

The boy stated his purpose. 

“ And you have heard what has passed between Rod- 
ding and me ?” 

“ Yes, I have heard it.” 

“ What were we talking about ?” 


The Mutineers . 


nr 


“ About murdering Captain Strong and seizing the 
brig." 

“ You see?” said the questioner, to his fellow-conspir- 
ator, in an appalled whisper — “ you see, Rodding ?” 

“Yes, I see. But Arty is a Lad of sense. He will 
see that he has put his foot into a mesh, and will be 
wise. He is a boy of his word, and if he gives us a 
solemn promise, he will keep it. Promise me, my lad, 
you will never reveal one word of the conversation 
you have just overheard — never neither to Cap’n Strong 
nor to any other person, neither by word nor by 
writing — and we will not harm you.” 

The boy looked the ruffians squarely in the face. 

“ I can never give you any such promise,” he declared 
quietly, but with a purpose as fixed as fate. 

“ And why not ?” 

“ Because it would not be right for me to keep such a 
horrible secret !” 

“ You mean to blow on us, then ?” 

“ I mean to tell Captain Strong all I have overheard 
as soon as I see him !” 

“ Pshaw ! don’t be a fool !” said Medlar, with ill-con- 
cealed rage. “ What harm will your declarations do 
us? The cap’n will merely have your word against 
ours — ” 

“Captain Strong will believe me.” 

“ Well, supposing he does ?” returned Rodding. “ He 
cannot prove anything. You may be sure that Mr. 
Medlar and I will deny the story. In no case can any 
harm come to us. And what will you gain by blowing 
on us ?” 

“ Not anything — beyond the satisfaction of having 
done my duty !” 

“ Hallo ! what’s up ?” suddenly called a voice at the 


I 12 


The Young Castaways , 


entrance of the forecastle, and immediately behind Arty. 
“ What’s the row ?” 

The new-comer was a conspirator — one of the worst 
ruffians in the ship. 

“ Hush, Brad,” enjoined Medlar. ‘ I’ll tell you what's 
up ! This young cub has overheard Rodding and me 
talking up our project of seizing the ship and cargo, and 
says he will betray us to the cap’n !” 

The eyes of the new-comer gleamed like daggers. 

“ So he says that, does he ?” he demanded. 

Medlar and Rodding both nodded. 

“ Then why don’t you squeeze the breath out of him, 
and throw him overboard ?” 

As he uttered this query, the new-comer seized Arty 
by the throat with such violence as to lift the lad from 
his feet. 

“ No noise,” enjoined Rodding. “ The chloroform is 
at hand, and also the gags !” 

A bottle of the destroying liquid was at once pro- 
duced, as was a horrible-looking gag ; but Arty was not 
so easily subjected to the sway of these agents. He 
struggled so violently as to overthrow all three of the 
assailants, and at the same time gave utterance to a 
cry that placed them in mortal fear of its being heard 
by ears friendly to him. 

“ Quick !” commanded Medlar, compressing the lad’s 
throat violently. “ Put that medicine to his nose. Hold 
him fast. Let’s have that gag and some ropes ! So. 
That’s the way to get at it.” 

Realizing only too clearly how much they had to gain 
by the lad’s death, the three desperadoes exerted them- 
selves to the utmost, and in less time than it has taken 
to record the fact, he lay as inert as a corpse in their 
hands, the powerful drug having bereft him- of his 
senses. 


The Mutineers. 


1 13 


“ Be particular about tying him,” enjoined Medlar, as 
Rodding produced a stout rope for that purpose. “ And 
as still as he now is, I would gag him.” 

Both measures were promptly taken, and the victors 
arose to their feet, panting for breath, but flushed and 
jubilant with their triumph. 

“ It’s well we began operations with him — the way he 
fights !” panted Brad. “ I wouldn’t have believed that 
any human being of his inches could make such a battle. 
But he’s done for at last, and no one seems to be the 
wiser.” 

“ No,” returned Rodding, after all three had listened 
intently a moment. “ Not a soul has heard us.” 

“ Suppose we go on, then ?” suggested Medlar, in a 
sharp whisper. 

“ Seize the brig, you mean ?” 

“ Certainly, seize the brig. Now is our time — as sud- 
den as the mine has been sprung upon us. A few words 
will make all plain to the rest of the boys.” 

“ Good ! Let’s hurry up the business,” said Rodding. 
“ Having once entered upon the matter we may as well 
make a finish of it. We might throw the boy overboard, 
to be sure, and so deny all knowledge of him, but such 
a course would make Strong and the rest all the more 
watchful, and we might never find so good a moment as 
the present !” 

“ We’ll move at once, then !” said Medlar, emphatic- 
ally. “ In ten minutes the brig shall be ours, and then 
hurrah for the coast of Guinea and z free flag ! This 
young cub is out of our way, you see/’ he added, as he 
spurned the insensible body of our hero with his foot, 
“ and his, I take it, is an important fact in our favor!” 

“ It is settled, then,” commented Brad. “ Let's to 
work at once !” 


The Young Castaways. 


114 


Seizing their arms quickly and in silence, the three 
men stole noiselessly to the deck, intent upon their evil 
purpose, leaving Arty in the embraces of the deadly 
drug they had applied to his nostrils. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

AN EVIL TURN OF AFFAIRS. 

Captain Strong and Elgie had been so busy that the 
prolonged absence of our young hero did not immedi- 
ately strike them. 

But at length the commander turned away from the 
thousand curiosities he had been exhibiting and describ- 
ing, and arose to his feet listening uneasily. 

“ I thought I heard a cry !” he muttered. 

Elgie joined him in listening, of course, but neither 
heard anything unusual. 

“ Arty ought to be back,” said the old navigator. “ I 
think I’ll see where he is !” 

“ He may have found that India-rubber suit a clumsy 
one to move about in,” suggested the girl, as a sudden 
pallor crept into her features. 

The suggestion startled the commander more than 
he would have been willing to acknowledge. 

“ In some sudden lurch,” thought he, taking his way 
toward the entrance of the cabin, “the boy may have 
bounded overboard like a ball !” 

To conceive such a fear, was to become active as a 
lion at once. 

“Remain quiet a moment,” he said to Elgie, hiding 
his anxiety under a smile. “ Merrick and the other 


An Evil Turn of Affairs. 


ii5 


sailors are much amused with our young porpoise, of 
course. But I’ll see — ” 

A hasty tramping of feet resounded on the deck at 
this juncture, and the form and features of Mr. Medlar 
appeared at the entrance of the cabin. 

44 If you please, sir,” began the arch-villain, 44 the boy 
has got into trouble — ” 

The declaration of the ruffian was interrupted by a 
sudden pressure upon the arm from the vice-like grip 
of Capt. Strong. 

44 Not a word more, Mr. Medlar,” enjoined the com- 
mander, in a low, crisp whisper. “ I will be with you 
instantly.” 

Elgie had caught enough of the interrupted speech 
to take the alarm. 

“ Oh, something has happened, Captain Strong !” she 
cried. 44 Where is Arty ?” 

The commander gently forced her back, as he 
ascended the companion way at the heels of Medlar, 
and said : 

44 Do not come upon deck, child. You will get over- 
board in this darkness. I will be back shortly. Wait 
here for me.” 

As scared and apprehensive as the girl had suddenly 
become, she could do no less than heed implicitly her 
benefactor’s injunctions. In another instant, therefore, 
she was left to herself. 

Taking his way to the forecastle, still at the heels of 
Medlar, the commander descended into the midst of 
half a dozen men there awaiting him. 

44 Where is the boy ?” he asked, looking around from 
one to another, by the rays of a lantern in the hands of 
one of the conspirators. 

44 There he is !” returned Medlar, at the same time 


The Young Castaways . 


1 16 


indicating a motionless figure upon the floor at one side 
of the forecastle. 

“ What ails him ?” continued the commander, anx- 
iously, as he advanced a few steps and knelt beside the 
unconscious lad, who was moaning dismally. “ What 
ails him ?” 

“ He has a fit, sir,” replied Medlar. 

“ A fit ? What sort of a fit ?” 

“ A tight one, I’m thinking !” 

Here there was a general laugh. 

Three at least of the mutineers had now placed them- 
selves between Captain Strong and the entrance of the 
forecastle. 

The captain looked around again, but this time in 
a wondering amazement. 

“ What do you mean ?” he asked sternly, as his glance 
came back to Medlar. 

“ Just what I said, sir — that the lad is in as neat a fit 
as you’d ever wish a man to be in — just such a fit, in 
fact, as we are about to accommodate you with !” 

With the conclusion of these words, the conspirators 
hurled themselves in a body upon the commander, who 
had not yet conceived a single suspicion of their des- 
perate purpose. 

A fearful struggle followed. 

The captain was as hardy and resolute as he had 
been painted, and entered upon such a powerful resist- 
ance that it was a full minute before he was duly 
secured, and gagged and bound. But the odds were too 
great in their favor for the conspirators to have failed 
of success. 

“ And now to secure the rest,” said Medlar, in a shrill 
and hurried whisper. “ Tell Gillet and Mason I wish 
to see them here immediately.” 

The order was addressed to Rodding, who instantly 


An Evil Turn of Affairs . 117 


hastened to the deck, soon returning with the men des- 
ignated, who were as promptly seized and handcuffed. 

“ This assures us the victory,” said Medlar, jubilantly ; 
“ but we may as well save Merrick from any attempt at 
making us trouble. Relieve him at the wheel, Rodding, 
and tell him I wish to see him.” 

This order being duly executed, Merrick was soon a 
close prisoner, and the conspirators were masters of the 
vessel. The rejoicings of the miscreants can be imag- 
ined. 

“ Three cheers for Cap’n Medlar, our new com- 
mander !” exclaimed Brad. 

The cheers were given and repeated with all the 
signs of frenzied enthusiasm. 

“ And now to escort the cap’n to the cabin,” continued 
Brad. “ Head off there, boys ! With such a wind and 
sea we are at liberty to make a night of it. The late 
commander has lots of good things in store for us. It 
only remains to celebrate our victory. Forward, all 
together !” 

Amid the greatest uproar and enthusiasm, Medlar 
was lifted from his feet, between Brad and another 
ruffian, and borne to the cabin, where he was hailed 
anew as commander, and where he made a short speech 
full of self-congratulation for the present, and of prom- 
ise for the future. The terror of Elgie at these pro- 
ceedings cannot easily be imagined. 

“ Where is Captain Strong ?” she asked, at the first 
advent of the lawless gang into her presence. 

No notice having been taken of the question, or of a 
similar one respecting Arty, the poor girl beat a retreat 
to her state-room, from which she surveyed with dilat- 
ing eyes the scenes that immediately followed. 

“ And now for a glass of grog in honor of the new 
order of things,” proposed Medlar, as he finally dropped 


1 1 8 


The Young Castaways, 


into the chair at the head of the table. “ Where’s that 
lump of animated charcoal ? Hey, you — Cuddle !” 

At this call Cuddle appeared from a state-room in 
which he had concealed himself at the entrance of the 
conspirators. He was a prey to a profound demoraliza- 
tion, and rolled his eyes wildly in every direction, 
appearing to believe or fear that his last hour had 
come. 

“ Here, you — Cuddle,” cried Medlar, at sight of the 
terrified dwarf, “ bring us brandy and cigars— the best 
in the captain’s locker.” 

The order being obeyed, the cabin was soon a scene 
of lawless merriment, the ruffians all talking at once, 
all as jubilant as defiant. The air reeked with the 
fumes of liquor and with the smoke of cigars. 

“ And now to business,” exclaimed Medlar, when the 
festivities of the occasion had been carried to a satis- 
factory height. “ I want Mr. Rodding. You, Brad, 
will please carry him my message, and take his place at 
the wheel.” 

“ Mr. Rodding ” was soon in the cabin, and was duly 
installed as chief mate of the vessel. 

“ And now let Mr. Strong be carried to the hold and 
left there in irons,” continued Medlar, with a gravity 
that was not free from the maudlin airs of inebriation. 
“ Let Mr. Strong be cared for. To the hold with 
him !” 

These suppressions of the commander’s titles were 
received with uproarious merriment by such of the 
conspirators as were present. 

“ Make yourself easy, Cap’n,” said Rodding to Med- 
lar. “ I will take good care of Mr. Strong, and also of 
the vessel.” 

In, an instant, as he set about his withdrawal, Elgie 


An Evil Turn of Affairs. 119 


was at his heels, her eyes flashing, her whole counte- 
nance radiant with indignation. 

“ I am going to see what you do with Captain Strong, 
you wicked man/’ she cried ; “ and also what you have 
done with Arty.” 

Rodding paused and looked at her in amazement. 

“ Oh ! you mean to go with me, do you ?” he de- 
manded, with smiling contempt. 

“Yes, I do. I should have left the cabin before if 
you hadn’t kept the door locked, and the key in your 
pocket.” 

“Well, come along, then.” 

The new mate and Elgie were soon in the forecastle. 

At sight of our hero, whose dismal moans still con- 
tinued, the girl was seized with fears and apprehensions 
she could not control. 

“ Oh, you have killed him !” she cried. 

Rodding again smiled contemptuously, after ordering 
a couple of his men, by a gesture, to remove Captain 
Strong to the hold. 

“ Oh ! Arty, Arty, speak to me !” implored Elgie, as 
she raised the head of the unconscious boy from the 
floor, and looked wildly into his face and eyes. “ What 
have they done to you ?” 

“ We have done him no harm, young woman,” 
declared Rodding, after he had seen Captain Strong 
removed from the forecastle. “You’ll soon see him stir- 
ring.” 

The girl wept as if her heart would break. It seemed 
to her that Arty must be nigh unto death. Never 
before had she seen such a picture of helplessness and 
distress as he presented. 

“ He’ll soon come out of it,” pursued Rodding, 
touched at last by the girl’s grief, or desirous of ingrati- 
ating himself with her. “ He made such a fierce war 


120 


The Young Castaways . 


upon us that we were obliged to quiet his nerves with 
a little chloroform. Perhaps I can help him !” 

Bringing some water in a basin, he sprinkled the 
features of the lad plentifully, and then poured down 
his throat a dram of brandy. 

The result was even more prompt and manifest than 
he expected. The boy soon opened his eyes intelligently. 

“ They have seized the brig, then ?” was his first 
query. 

“ Yes, Arty !” 

“ And Captain Strong ?” 

The girl looked around, now for the first time missing 
the commander. 

“ He is a prisoner in the hold !” she then answered. 

“ And what is to become of us, Elgie ?” 

“ Heaven only knows, Arty !” 

Rodding smiled grimly, continuing to regard them. 

“ Yes, / know what will become of you,” he declared. 
“ But it is too soon to tell you !” 

“ The ship is still dashing on,” murmured Arty. ' 

“ Yes ; the change of masters will make little change 
in her destination,” said Rodding, complacently. “ She is 
still headed for the west coast of Africa, by the way of 
the Cape De Verde islands !” 

During the pause that followed, Medlar came into 
the forecastle, with a lantern in his hand. 

“You are all right again, eh ?” he said to Arty. “I 
am glad of it. Untie him and take off his patent life 
preserver, Mr. Rodding, and let him have a bit of fresh 
air.” 

The ropes with which the lad had been tied were duly 
removed, as was the suit of India-rubber, and he arose 
to his feet, to the great delight of Elgie, who clung to his 
neck, weeping for joy. 

“ It would be a pity to separate such a couple, I’m 


An Evil Turn of Affairs . 12 1 


thinking,” muttered Medlar, “ What do you say about 
it, Mr. Rodding?” 

“ I think just as you do, Cap'n Medlar.” 

“ Then we will not leave the boy in irons in the hold, as 
I first intended,” said Medlar. “ On the contrary, he shall 
continue to occupy his state-room in the cabin. The fact 
is,” he added, lowering his voice to a whisper, “ the boy 
is too bold and active to be left with Mr. Strong.” 

“ That's so. In the cabin, however, he will be under 
your own eye.” 

“ The very point I was thinking about.” 

The matter being thus settled, Medlar turned to the 
young couple. 

“You can both come with me,” he said, and with this 
he led the way to the cabin. 

It would be hard to describe the desolation and 
anguish in which Arty and Elgie found themselves at 
that moment. With the brig in the hands of the muti- 
neers, with Captain Strong lying bound and helpless in 
the hold, and especially in view of their own utter help- 
lessness, it seemed to them as if the cloud of darkness 
which had descended upon them would remain around 
them forever. 

And yet, a few minutes later, as Arty sat silent and 
thoughtful in the cabin, with his hand in Elgie’s, a 
gleam of hope stole into his mind and looked from his 
eyes. 

“ The rogues are short-handed,” he whispered — “by 
which I mean that there are hardly enough of them to 
work the brig. If we should have a heavy gale — but 
that is too terrible to think about. They may quarrel 
among themselves, however, in the course of dividing 
the booty. Or we may meet some ship of war that will 
call them to account. At the worst, I may be able 


122 


The Young Castaways . 


to release Captain Strong and the others, and lead the 
way to retaking the vessel !” 

Elgie was almost scared by the heroic light that had 
suddenly appeared in the boy’s eyes. 

“Oh, be careful,” she enjoined. “ They will kill us, 
if we should be caught in any such business !” 

“ Oh, I will be careful ! But I will also be watchful ! 
This business is not yet ended !” 


CHAPTER XIV, 
runnel’s return. 

Traveling southward by rail, after his curt leave-tak- 
ing of Spareman, Runnel seemed to melt away like an 
iceberg from the Polar regions, bound in the same direc- 
tion. He could neither eat nor sleep, but grew so thin 
and haggard, so unlike his usual hearty self, that his 
best friends would soon have found it difficult to recog- 
nize him. 

Only once in a while did his thoughts take upon them- 
selves coherent shape, and then it was that he cursed 
Spareman, and bemoaned the loss of Arty and Elgie. 

And thus bewailing and getting as thin as a shadow, 
the desperate and disappointed man at length ap- 
proached Charleston. 

Within a few hours’ ride of the city he bought a daily 
paper, as was his wont, but with no intention of reading 
it. What were the news of the day to him ? What pos- 
sible interest could he have in human affairs, now that 
he had been so severely wounded in his most vital aims 
and ambitions ? 


Runners Return . 


123 


Read the paper he did, however — in a desultory sort 
of way — it is so natural to an anxious traveler to pore 
over almost anything that offers a few moments of dis- 
traction. 

In taking this course, the traveler in the present case 
was nearer to an abyss than he could have possibly imag- 
ined. For he had scarcely turned to the inside pages 
when his wandering and uneasy glances encountered a 
head-line reading as follows : 

“ Death of Mrs. Abner Hillston !” 

Many a man has lost his senses forever under a smaller 
shock than those few words gave to Capt. Grebb 
Runnel. 

At first he believed himself the sport of some mon- 
strous illusion. To the great loss and disappointment 
he had already suffered, he could not readily add this 
greatest of all possible losses and disappointments. 

But it was no illusion that enthralled the startled man 
— no blur upon his sight. The words stood out in all 
the force of types and ink, and seemed to sear themselves 
upon his comprehension. 

It was even so then ? The lady in question was dead ? 
How had she died ? 

The tale was ominously long, as Runnel saw at a 
glance, it filling nearly an entire column. He forced 
himself to read it from beginning to end, although every 
word seemed to add to the despairing consternation into 
which the sight of the first startling line had thrown 
him. 

u Frightful, frightful !” was his comment, as the paper 
at length fell from his grasp. “ Seized with brain-fever 
she wandered away at dead of night, and is believed to 
have flung herself into the river, and to have been car- 
ried out to the sea by the tide. Horrible, horrible ! 


The Young Castaways . 


1 24 


And this is the end of my grand scheme of revenge — of 
all my wild hopes of a speedy and glorious triumph !” 

The next coherent thought of Runnel did not come to 
him until some hours later — until he found himself at 
Charleston. Then rousing himself from the long stupor 
into which he had fallen, he hastily emerged from the 
car, and took his way on foot towards the wharves in 
the vicinity of Chisholm’s Mills, avoiding as much as 
possible the notice of everybody he encountered. 

Once at the wharf he was seeking, he summoned a 
boatman in silence, took his seat in the frail craft, and 
indicated the graceful Baltimore clipper with which our 
readers are already familiar. 

“ Put me aboard of her,” he commanded. 

In five minutes thereafter he was under the bows of 
the clipper. 

“ What, is it you, Captain ?” called a voice cheerily — 
that of Gredin, his executive officer, who was looking 
down upon him. “ But it is you, I see. Excuse me, 
Captain. I did not, at first, recognize you.” 

A rope ladder was lowered, the boatman dismissed, 
and the transit made to the deck. 

“ Heavenly king ! how you are changed !” cried 
Gredin, in a sort of scared awe, as he shook hands with 
the newcomer. “ You have been ill, I see ! Or have 
the cursed watch-dogs of Uncle Sam been giving you a 
closer call than usual ?” 

“ It is nothing of that kind,” said Runnel, as he feebly 
returned the hearty pressure of his executive’s hand. 
“ What the deuce do I care for Uncle Sam’s watch-dogs ? 
Did you ever know me to care a fig for them ? It’s 
another matter altogether that has been killing me — a 
terrible disappointment !” 

“ The result of your journey to Massachusetts is not 
what you expected, then ?” questioned Gredin, quietly, 


Runnel's Return . 


i 2 5 


but with suppressed excitement. “ The children are no 
longer living ?” 

“ No — ten thousand curses, no !” answered Runnel, 
steadying himself against the bulwarks. “ That fool of 
a Spareman, in whose charge they were, sent them 
adrift in a squall, and they naturally soon after found 
their way to the bottom of the Atlantic.” 

“ And so your project of restoring them to their 
mother, in return for her hand, is brought to an ignoble 
close,” commented Gredin, stepping about excitedly. 

“ As you see, Gredin,” acknowledged Runnel, with 
an air and countenance of appalling gloom. “ Nor is 
that all. Look at that !” 

He extended to Gredin the newspaper, still clutched 
tightly in his hand. 

At sight of the article in question, the countenance of 
Gredin changed its expression with singular vivacity. 
Controlling his emotions, however, the executive read 
every word of the harrowing account. 

“ That's rather rich, Captain,” he then muttered. “ I 
hadn’t seen it before. Fact is, I haven’t been ashore 
to-day. Capital, isn’t it ?” 

And he chuckled grimly. 

Runnel looked at his executive in astonishment. 

“ I hope you don’t take newspaper word for the death 
of the two children ?” continued Gredin, as he threw a 
glance of scorn upon the journal. 

“Why, of course not,” replied Runnel. “I know of 
my own knowledge that they are as dead as the great 
pyramid. But why do you ask ?” 

“ Merely to remind you that a thing isn’t true because 
you find it in the newspapers,” declared Gredin, smil- 
ingly. “ For instance, this touching tale of the death 
of Mrs. Hillston is wanting in one very important par- 
ticular.” 


126 


The Young Castaways, 


“ What ! do you mean to throw doubt upon it ?” cried 
Runnel. “ Is it not true ? Has not Mrs. Hillston wan- 
dered from her home, in the delirium induced by a fever ? 
And have not all the efforts to find her been unsuccess- 
ful ? And is it not as good as demonstrated that she is 
the unknown woman who threw herself from one of the 
wharves, some six or eight days ago — ” 

The executive, still smiling, interrupted this torrent 
of questions with a gesture. 

“ None of those points cover the entire field,” he 
declared. “ Not to keep you in this state of painful 
agitation, Captain Runnel, permit me to declare in a 
breath that Mrs. Abner Hillston is not dead, as all these 
people believe and affirm. She is not merely living at 
this moment, but is enjoying a very tolerable degree of 
health !” 

The face of Runnel became whiter at this assurance 
then Gredin had ever before seen it. 

It was a full minute before the astonished man could 
bring under proper control the wild revulsion of feelings 
these declarations caused him. 

“ You mean what you say, Gredin, I see,” then mur- 
mured Runnel. “ You know of your own knowledge 
that Mrs. Abner Hillston is still living ? You know 
this beyond all question ?” 

“ Certainly !” 

“ Then where is she at this moment ?” 

“ Aboard of this vessel, in the cabin !” 

But for the joyous excitement that now sparkled 
from every feature of Gredin’s face, Runnel would have 
found it difficult to credit this most astounding declar- 
ation. 

“ This is great and splendid news,” murmured the 
overjoyed villain, after a long pause. “ How long has 
she been here ?” 


Runnel's Return . 


127 


“ Ever since that fatal plunge of the unknown woman 
from the wharf, as related in your paper.” 

“ Ah ! Mrs. Hillston was really that unknown 
woman, then ?” 

“Yes. So far the article is true. But Mrs. Hillston 
was not drowned. I was close at hand with a boat, 
having been in the act of coming off to the clipper, and 
I had the good fortune of saving the lady, and the still 
greater good fortune of saving her without the knowledge 
of a single human being in all this city or country.” 

“ And she is now in the cabin, you say ?” 

Gredin nodded. 

“ Then lead the way to her. What an awful load 
you have taken from my mind, Gredin. I shall never 
forget you — never !” 

Arriving at the entrance of the cabin, Gredin drew a 
key from his pocket and unlocked the door, giving his 
superior admittance, and then followed himself, secur- 
ing the door behind him. 

One wild glance cast Runnel around the cabin, while 
he clung with both hands to the railing beside him. 

“ It is as well,” he then breathed. “ It seems to me 
that the sight of her here at this instant would have 
killed me.” 

im She is in her state-room,” explained Gredin. “ Per- 
haps I had better prepare her for your visit — least this 
extraordinary commotion,” and he smiled, “ should 
prove mutual.” 

Gasping for breath and pressing his hand to his heart, 
Runnel nodded assent to the proposition of his exec- 
utive, and then advanced to the nearest chair, into 
which he dropped with a heaviness indicative of his 
nervous weakness. What a thought it was for him 
after all his years of infamous scheming, that Mrs. Hill- 


128 


The Young Castaways . 


ston was within a few yards of him, aboard of his own 
vessel ! 

He was trembling with an ecstasy of mingled love 
and revenge, when the door of the state-room at which 
he was gazing was suddenly opened, and there floated 
out upon his gaze a vision that seemed to him almost 
celestial — Mrs. Hillston. 

A word from Gredin had prepared the lady for the 
interview. 

vShe was as self-possessed as radiant. 

“ You seem surprised, Captain Runnel,” said the lady, 
in a calm, richly-vibrating voice, after he had stared at 
her for a long time in speechless wonderment. “ Did 
not Mr. Gredin inform you of my presence ?” 

“ He did indeed tell me that Mrs. Hillston was here,” 
returned Runnel, “ but he did not prepare me for this 
glorious revelation of loveliness ! I supposed you to be 
ill and suffering — the same Mrs. Hillston I lately had 
the pleasure of seeing at your own house in the city !” 

“ You find me changed, then ?” 

“ Oh, so much — so much !” 

“ And so much for Maum Blacky’s skill in medicine,” 
said Gredin, smilingly, as he advanced between the 
couple. “ It is to Maum Blacky that Mrs. Hillston is 
chiefly indebted for this wondrous improvement in her 
health. She was not only delirious with fever when I 
brought her here, but had been adrift in the river. In 
a word, she was in such a state that I did not expect 
her to live twenty-four hours. But Maum Blacky was 
in no wise disconcerted, and at once set to work with 
such skill and daring energy that the fever was entirely 
broken up on the following morning. From that 
moment to this the patient has continued to mend, and 
the result is before you.” 

“ I am feeling better to-day than I have felt for 


Runnel's Return . 


129 


years,” said Mrs. Hillston, as she sank upon a low sta- 
tionary ottoman at the rear of the apartment. “ So 
well, in fact, that I have been all day endeavoring to 
prevail upon Mr. Gredin to take me ashore.” 

“And he refuses?” queried Runnel. 

“Yes, sir, he refuses. He says that my friends 
would refuse to believe I am the same woman who left 
them eight or ten days ago. He even says that they 
all believe me to be dead !” 

“And so they do!” said Runnel. “Would you like 
to know just what they think upon that point ? If so, 
read that article !” 

He placed the newspaper under the lady’s eyes, and 
waited in silence until she had perused the whole 
account. 

“ This is terrible,” was her comment. “ I must go to 
my friends at once, you see. But first let us talk of 
your trip to the North,” and she turned a gaze upon 
Runnel’s features that seemed to burn them. “ Mr. 
Gredin told me this morning that you are the owner 
and commander of this clipper, and that he expected 
you every minute, or I should have gone ashore sooner. 
I wanted to hear your report as early as possible. 
Have you brought my children ?” 

The question could not have been unexpected to 
Runnel, but it found him unprepared to answer it. 
His entire countenance seemed to shrivel under the 
lady’s gaze as he sat motionless and silent, with averted 
eyes, asking himself how he should answer that ques- 
tion, and what should be his further dealings with the 
fair questioner ! 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE REPORT AND CONFESSION. 

Perceiving that Runnel did not give the least sign of 
answering her question, Mrs. Hillston repeated it, at 
the same time arising and advancing to his side to 
observe more clearly the workings of his countenance. 

That the arch-villain was at a loss how to reply, was 
visible at a glance. And as Mrs. Hillston marked only 
too surely this circumstance, a look of mingled con- 
tempt and disgust became manifest on her features. 

“ Come, come !” she ejaculated. “ Can you not 
answer a simple question ? Or must you have time to 
concoct some lying answer ?" 

Runnel started as if a serpent had stung him. 

“ You will excuse me, Mrs. Hillston," he said, “when 
you learn the cause of my hesitation/' 

“ That remains to be seen ! Why do you not answer 
my question ?" 

“ I was simply asking myself if it would be right and 
kind to tell you all the facts in my knowledge, or if it 
would be better to conceal a portion of them from you." 

“ A characteristic problem, it seems," murmured the 
lady, coldly. “ Let me give you a hint, Captain Runnel, 
for reaching its solution. The hour has come for frank- 
ness between you and me, as the first of any and all 
relations that can or may hereafter exist between us !" 

“ Thanks for the assurance," said Runnel, with a long 

[130] 



The Report and Confession . 


131 


breath of relief. “ I had about reached that conclusion 
unaided. I will deal with you from this moment in all 
sincerity and frankness !” 

“ Then begin by answering my question. Have you 
brought my children ?” 

“ No, Mrs. Hillston, I have not brought them, I am 
sorry to say !” 

An awful pallor suddenly replaced all the bright and 
beautiful flushes which feverish excitement and expect- 
ancy had previously called to the mother’s cheeks. 

“ You — you have not seen them, then, since you left 
me ?” she faltered. 

“ No, I have not seen them !” 

The silence that succeeded this avowal was one of 
those appalling silences in which human blood seems to 
curdle. 

“ And in view of this very serious fact, Mrs. Hillston,” 
resumed Runnel, after a long pause, “you will not 
wonder that I have hesitated as to the completeness of 
the report I am called upon to give of my journey to 
Massachusetts !” 

“ Ah ! it is to Massachusetts, then, that you have 
made this flying visit ?” asked the lady. 

“ Yes, it is to Massachusetts,” avowed Runnel, as he 
settled himself more firmly into the chair he had taken. 
“ But before I report upon this little trip, will it not be 
well for me to make a confession of my past sins towards 
you ? In a word, to go back to the first hour in which I 
entered upon all these years of revenge ? Would you 
not like to hear the history of your children from that 
hour ?” 

The eager start given by Mrs. Hillston attested what 
a vital chord of her heart the villain had touched with 
this suggestion. 

“ Oh, if you would !” she murmured. “ What could 


I 3 2 


The Yo2tng Castaways . 


be more interesting to me ? Even your voice will be 
sweet to me, if you talk to me of my children. Where 
have they passed all these years ? What have been 
their experiences ? Be quick to enter upon these 
revelations, Captain Runnel, and I will bless you.” 

The features of Runnel lost a portion of the stern 
lines by which, until now, they had been corrugated. 
He comprehended clearly enough from the words and 
mien of Mrs. Hillston, that he was sailing upon the 
right track. 

“Ten years ago,” be began, “when I stole your 
children, I traveled as straight as an arrow to New 
Orleans, where I arrived just in time to place them 
aboard of a brig that was in the act of dropping down 
the river. The name of this %brig was the Emerald. 
She was bound for Boston.” 

“ Let me put down the name of the brig and her des- 
tination,” proposed Mrs. Hillston. “ Not that I shall 
ever forget a word you are now saying to me, but that I 
wish to assure myself beyond all doubt that your future 
declarations upon these subjects will not vary from 
those you now make to me !” 

“ Write down the points, then,” enjoined Runnel, 
with another long sigh. “ I am going to give you the 
facts in all their sombre reality !” 

“ Go on, sir !” 

“ The children having thus been placed aboard the 
brig,” resumed Runnel, “ in charge of the stewardess, I 
watched the vessel until she had left the mouth of the 
river, thus assuring myself that they were not discovered 
and that no weighty suspicions of my actions in the 
premises had arisen. And while the Emerald thus took 
her way northward by water, I flew in the same direction 
by land, arriving at Boston several days before the brig 


The Report and Confession 133 


would be due there, to judge by the passages she was 
in the habit of making !" 

“ And so you were in Boston at the moment of the 
brig's arrival ?" 

“ Excuse me, madam, the brig never reached that 
port, I am sorry to say," continued the narrator. “ At 
the instant of entering Massachusetts Bay she was 
caught in a terrific snow-squall — one of those icy blasts 
peculiar to the region — and in the dense gloom that 
followed, the commander lost his way, or missed his 
calculations. The result of the business was that the 
brig went ashore just north of Boston, and was dashed 
in pieces ?" 

44 But those aboard of her were saved ?" 

44 Not a soul of them, save the two children — not a 
soul of them, Mrs. Hillston ! And to what those help- 
less infants owed their preservation I cannot even 
imagine !" 

44 It was the great mercy of God that encompassed 
them about!" declared the lady, as she raised her 
streaming eyes to heaven. 44 And so they were saved. 
Go on, sir — go on." 

44 1 doubt not that the honest old skipper had taken a 
liking to the little things," resumed Runnel, 44 and that 
he made every effort in the world to save them, even to 
the sacrificing of his own life — for he was among the 
lost. Be that as it may, the boy and girl fell into the 
hands of an old fisherman named Dickerill, and received 
from this man and his neighbors every care and atten- 
tion." 

44 The name is on this page as well as upon my heart," 
declared the lady, writing again upon the paper before 
her. 44 1 shall never forget it." 

44 1 was on the ground in person during the succeed- 
ing afternoon," continued Runnel, 44 an account of the 


134 


The Young Castaways . 


wreck having been telegraphed to Boston at daylight, 
and I came to the conclusion that the children would 
be perfectly safe from all pursuit in the retired corner 
of creation where the winds and waves had landed 
them. If you remember what were my feelings at the 
time, you will readily understand that my only inten- 
tion and desire in the premises was to prevent you and 
your husband from ever learning what had become of 
those children.” 

The lady sighed profoundly. 

“ You succeeded only too well in your purpose, Cap- 
tain Runnel,” she murmured. “ If we had .for a 
moment been tempted to look after the Emerald , ' we 
should have been restrained by the fact that every soul 
aboard of her was reported to have perished. I remem- 
ber the circumstance well, now that you have opened 
the way so far for me to recall it. Continue.” 

“ I accordingly turned my back upon that rock-bound 
coast,” proceeded Runnel, “ and did not take my way 
thither again until nearly eight years afterwards. 
There were two good reasons for this absence from the 
scene — the pressure of numerous business affairs in 
Africa and elsewhere, and the deucedly close^watch your 
husband was maintaining by his army of detectives 
upon my movements. For years I did not dare to turn 
my steps northward lest I should thus be the means of 
betraying where the children were hidden !” 

“ Oh, you were cunning enough for us !” commented 
Mrs. Hillston. “ The whereabouts of the poor children 
was only too well guarded. Until the hour of his death, 
my husband believed that they were hidden in the 
midst of the Bahama Islands !” 

Runnel started at the last two words as if shot, and a 
flush of wild excitement ran like lightning over his 


The Report and Confession . 


135 


“ The Bahama Islands !” he then repeated, with a 
smile that was singularly unnatural. “ No, no, Mrs. 
Hillston, it was upon this rude fishing-coast of Massa- 
chusetts Bay that fate had placed your children.” 

“And so eight years after the shipwreck — that is to say 
about two years ago — you ventured to pay them a 
visit ?” murmured the lady. “ How did you find them 
— in what situations, I mean ?” 

“Well, the boy had been bound out to a butcher 
named Blodgett, and was being worked like a slave. 
As to the girl, she had been taken by a woman named 
Mrs. Spareman, in whose family she was living as a 
general drudge.” 

The eyes of the mother flamed with indignation, 
even as they filled with tears. 

“ Truly — you had your revenge !” she faltered. “ But 
it was revenge you were seeking. Go on !” 

“ This Spareman — the husband of the lady I have 
mentioned — was a man who had once been quite inti- 
mate with me upon the West Coast of Africa. I knew 
him as a fugitive from justice — as a detestable villain. 
I had even recognized him at my first visit to the coast, 
although I did not on that occasion make myself known 
to him.” 

“And so my children were living in separate places 
two years ago — the boy with a butcher named Blodgett, 
and my little girl with a Mrs. Spareman, the wife of a 
fugitive slave-trader you formerly knew in Africa.” 

“ That’s about how it was, madam.” 

Mrs. Hillston made a memorandum of the informa- 
tion, while Runnel moistened his husky throat with a 
drink of brandy. 

“ If you choose to remember the circumstances, Mrs. 
Hillston,” he then continued, “ you will recall that your 
husband was pursuing me two years ago with unusual 


136 


The Young Castaways. 


energy and bitterness. There even came an hour when 
I believed that his detectives had tracked him to that 
lonely coast, and when I feared that he would end the 
long war between us by placing his hand upon his chil- 
dren. Goaded by those apprehensions, I lost no time 
in renewing acquaintance with Spareman, at the dead 
of a dark night, and in suggesting to him that he would 
be ten thousand dollars richer the very day he could 
bring me proofs that the children were dead.” 

The lady started to her feet as if subjected to the 
shock of an electric battery. 

“ This is monstrous — horrible !” she exclaimed. 
“You charged this man Spareman with the murder of 
my poor children ?” 

“ As I was frankly saying, and Spareman assured me 
that he would soon send me news of the entire accom- 
plishment of my wishes. But month after month 
glided away in bald excuses, and then came the death 
of your husband, which at once suggested to me a nota- 
ble change of views and projects, inasmuch as it per- 
mitted me to lay siege to your hand.” 

“ And so you countermanded your order to Spareman 
respecting the children !” 

“ No, it was impossible. I was in Africa at the mo- 
ment the news of your husband's death reached me. 
Besides, my first action in the premises was to obtain a 
promise from you to become my wife, in consideration 
of the restoration by me of the children. This prom- 
ise I was so fortunate as to secure some twenty days 
ago, and thereupon I instantly turned my face north- 
ward. Your detective followed me to Norfolk, but 
there I shook him off — ” 

“And the children — the children !” interrupted Mrs. 
Hillston, in a shrill voice of distress. “You found 
them still living ?” 


The Report and Confession . 


137 


“ You shall soon hear. On reaching Spareman’s, I 
found that he had made various efforts to get rid of the 
children, but had failed in every instance !” 

“ Thank heaven for that !” 

“ On the very night of my arrival at his house, how- 
ever,” proceeded Runnel, hurriedly, “ the two children 
reached a resolve to end their long misery by running 
away. Taking the shore road to Boston, they traveled 
several hours toward the city, at last taking refuge for 
the night in a boat they found upon the shore of a cove. 
Here they were found soon afterward by Spareman, 
who, mindful of my former instruction, and anxious to 
secure the ten thousand dollars I had promised him, 
sent the boat adrift in the very teeth of a squall, with 
the young couple fast asleep in it !” 

The soul of Mrs. Hillston was rent with a dreadful 
expectancy at this announcement. It was with diffi- 
culty that she managed to articulate : 

“ And they were lost, Captain Runnel ?” 

“ They have not been heard of from that moment to 
the present,” declared Runnel, whose desperation at 
the fact was nearly as great as her own — so great as to 
render him indifferent to any shock he might give her. 
“ But I do not by any means despair of receiving good 
news from them. The boat in which they went adrift 
was a life-boat of peculiar construction — one especially 
designed to ride out the wildest gales. It went adrift, 
too, in fine weather, and on a portion of the coast where 
ships of all kinds are constantly passing. I do not have 
the least doubt, therefore, that the couple were res- 
cued from their perilous position, and that they are as 
safe at this moment as you and I are, Mrs. Hillston.” 

A long silence succeeded, and then came a single 
question from the panting lips of the afflicted mother : 

“ But where are they ?” 


138 


The Young Castazvays. 


“ It's impossible to sa y,” replied Runnel. “ They 
have doubtless been carried to some distant port — to 
Europe, Africa, or the Brazils — so that it will be a com- 
paratively long time before we shall hear of their safety. 
But that they are safe somewhere, you may consider 
perfectly certain. We have only to watch the shipping 
news from all points to hear of them in due course !” 

At this juncture a sharp hail resounded under the 
bows of the clipper. 

“ See who it is, Darrell,” said Runnel to his execu- 
tive. 

The officer vanished, but returned almost instantly, 
placing a telegraph message in the hands of his superior, 
with the remark : 

“ It is sent off in a special boat by your agents in the 
city.” 

Runnel hastened to tear open the missive. A single 
glance at the contents and signatures brought a yell of 
delight to his lips. 

“ It is from old Spareman !” he shouted, rather than 
said. “ The children are safe ! They were picked up 
by Captain Strong of the brig Bunting — a Salem trader 
— bound to the west coast of Africa. The Bunting hav- 
ing been spoken by a homeward-bound vessel, Captain 
Strong has made this report for the benefit of those 
concerned. Capital ! Read for yourself !” 

Flushing and paling by turns, the lady seized and 
read the document. 

“ Is this entirely trustworthy ?” she asked. 

“ Entirely so. I am familiar with the name of the 
Bunting , and her commander — ” 

“ But would not the brig put back with the chil- 
dren ?” 

“ No, not under ordinary conditions. She would con- 


The Repoi't and Confession. 


139 


tinue on her way to the west coast of Africa, and the 
children would naturally remain with her.” 

“ Oh, that we could follow her ! Oh, that I could go 
in quest of my loved ones.” 

“ Nothing is easier, Mrs. Hillston, as I was about to 
suggest to you,” declared Runnel, with a snaky gleam in 
his eyes. “ The good ship beneath your feet is bound in 
the same direction, and can be ready for departure before 
midnight. If you will do me the honor of remaining in 
her as a passenger, I can safely promise you that 
within four weeks the two children will be brought into 
your presence.” 

A cry of hope burst from Mrs. Hillston’s lips. 

“ I will go,” she cried. “ Make all your arrangements 
as quickly as possible. Let's be off at once.” 

“ But will you not need to go ashore ?” 

“ No, sir. Everybody supposes me dead. Let that 
conviction remain current until this dreadful problem 
about my children is decided. I have no heart to see 
any one, no need of anything — no other wish whatever 
than that to be hastening over the ocean in the direction 
the Bunting has taken.” 

“ Then make yourself at home, madam,” invited 
Runnel. “ Mr. Gredin and I will not lose a moment in 
making our arrangements for an instant departure.” 

The villain was as good as his word. Within six 
hours after these declarations were made the clipper had 
left the port of Charleston, and was dashing boldly out 
into the Atlantic, taking the direction of the Cape de 
Verde Islands ! 

“ I11 any case, I shall have her in my hands,” said 
Runnel to Gredin, as he stood upon the deck smiling 
and contented. “ And not a soul behind us will ever 
know that she is still living, unless she becomes Mrs. 
Grebb Runnel !” 



CHAPTER XVI. 

A DESPERATE PROJECT. 

The night which followed the seizure of the Bunting 
by Medlar and his gang was as busy as turbulent. The 
affair was more than sudden — it had been sprung upon 
the conspirators by Arty’s discovery of their purpose, 
and by the consequent necessity of acting a few days 
sooner than originally intended. 

But the business had none the less been a complete 
success. 

Not merely Captain Strong himself, but all of those 
likely to side with him, had been duly ironed and taken 
to the hold, and the little brood of mutineers were in 
full possession of the brig and her cargo. 

“ And a fine prize she is, boys,” said Medlar, after he 
had examined the captain’s manifest with due atten- 
tion. “ The result will be a fortune for every mother’s 
son of us, if the sale of the goods is properly managed !” 

“ And then comes a voyage to America with a cargo 
of ebony-wood,” exclaimed Rodding with a laugh. 
“ That is the real aim of our proceedings, of course. 
The profit of a single cargo of slaves — such as the 
Bunting can carry, if landed upon the coast of Georgia 
or Cuba, cannot fall far short of a hundred thousand 
dollars. A good stanch vessel being the first necessity 
for this line of industry, we have been compelled to lay 
violent hands upon the Bunting , as grieved as I am to 
[140] 



A Desperate Project . 14 1 


have been forced into an act so repugnant to my mor- 
ality." 

“ Here, Mr. Rodding, suppose you take another glass 
of grog after that stupendous effort," suggested Med- 
lar. “Your imagination is too lively to last without 
some such strengthening." 

Another bout of drinking succeeded, the new officers 
of the brig fraternizing with their men, and not more 
than two individuals remaining on duty — the man at 
the wheel and a solitary lookout forward. 

“ I shall have to promote that boy to the berth of 
able seaman, I think," remarked Medlar, as his glances 
rested upon Arty, who was uttering guarded comments 
upon the scene in Elgie’s ears. “We are too few in num- 
ber to do without him." 

Catching the eye of our hero, Medlar motioned him 
to approach, which Arty did. 

“ I have placed you in Mr. Rodding’s watch, my boy," 
announced Medlar to him, “ and you may as well trans- 
fer yourself to the forecastle, taking your chances with 
the rest. Not a word of opposition, if you please. I 
am now the master of this vessel. You can see your 
sister, of course, as often as you please, when you are 
not on duty, and she will remain in her present quarters 
until further advices. Mr. Rodding will now show you 
to your new post, and my first, last and only advice to 
you is to be willing and civil, and never go near Mr. 
Strong and those with him." 

It caused Arty a great effort to resign himself to this 
disposition of affairs, but he was too brave and thought- 
ful not to make the best of a bad bargain. Yielding to 
his adverse fate, he exchanged a few remarks and assur- 
ances with Elgie, and then proceeded to the new quar- 
ters assigned him. 

“ This is the second time Medlar has disposed of me 


142 


The Young Castaways , 


within an hour,” he said to himself, bitterly. “ A little 
while ago he said I could remain in the cabin, and now 
he wants me to play ‘ able seaman ’ and remain in the 
forecastle. What’s the meaning of these conflicting 
plans ? Evidently he is afraid of me. It’s clear that he 
hardly knows what to do with me.” 

While these reflections were passing in the lad’s 
mind, Medlar was quietly pursuing his task of settling 
himself comfortably into the position he had usurped. 

“ Cuffee will remain in the same position as before,” 
he decided, “ and so will Cuddle, only I will take care 
that both of the black rascals are kept in better train- 
ing. H ey,you — Cuffee and Cuddle !” 

These two representatives of Africa soon stood trem- 
bling in the presence of Medlar, who proceeded to lay 
down the Medlian law and programme to them. That 
they were worried and scared by the instructions he 
gave them was sufficiently evinced by their eyes. Never 
before had they displayed such vast fields of milky 
whiteness around their visual organs. 

“ At seven o’clock in the morning, Cuffee,” finished 
the petty despot, “ you must have ready for the boys the 
best breakfast you are capable of cooking. It is my 
intention to give them a little blow-out in honor of the 
new order of things, and you must take good care that 
everything goes off like clock-work. Cuddle will wait 
on table and make himself generally useful, and if you 
have the least regard for your black hides you must 
both put the best foot forward.” 

The two scared officials declared that they would do 
their best on any and every occasion, and were then 
allowed to escape for the time being to the deck. 

In the darkness that still reigned upon the deck of 
the brig, it would appear to have been no easy task for 
one person to distinguish another, but Arty and Cuddle 


A Desperate Project . 


143 


were in close counsel with each other, within five min- 
utes after the conversation we have recorded, 

“ So, the villain gives a ‘ blow-out ’ to the 1 boys,' does 
he, in the morning ?” commented Arty, upon one of the 
first items of information Cuddle gave him. “ If you 
were brave, Cuddle — ” 

The dwarf declared, in his uncouth way, that he 
was as brave as any man in the world, and in proof of 
the fact offered to jump overboard at the least hint to 
that effect from his companion. 

“ I mean, then, if you were willing to do me a very 
great favor — ” 

This suggestion was no less promptly met than the 
other, the dwarf declaring that there was no trouble he 
would not take to oblige Arty. 

In good truth, the two youngsters had developed a 
profound harmony and sympathy with each other, as 
short as was the period of their acquaintance. There is no 
greater or better basis for a mutual understanding than a 
thorough agreement in age, position, pursuits, hopes and 
fears, and it was only natural, therefore, that Arty and 
Cuddle should have already become as intimate as 
brothers, notwithstanding the marked difference in their 
characters and capabilities as in their complexions. 

“ Then I will tell you something, Cuddle,” whispered 
Arty in the ear of the dwarf. “ You know it was very 
wrong and wicked for Medlar and the rest to have 
seized the ship ?” 

The dwarf assented. 

“ You know, too, that they have rendered themselves 
liable to be hanged as pirates if they should be caught 
in the business ?” continued Arty, impressively. “ It is 
piracy to seize a ship in this manner, and all pirates are 
to be put to death whenever they are found out and cap- 
tured, You understand, then, Cuddle, that these men 


144 


The Young Castaways . 


are already pirates, and that we have a perfect right to 
turn against them ?” Cuddle again nodded. 

“ Then, why don’t we ?” 

It was clear that the dwarf felt the full force of the 
question. His eyes gleamed with an energy peculiar to 
the savage. 

“ There is a way,” continued Arty, after he was sure 
of the dwarfs approval. “ All we have to do,” and his 
voice sank still lower, “ is to give Medlar and his ‘ boys ’ 
a dose of laudanum in their coffee in the morning.” 

A swift, low chatter of approval came from Cuddle. 
He saw the practicability of the measure at once. 

“ In the captain’s medicine-chest there are all sorts of 
drugs and powders,” added Arty, in a barely audible 
tone “ Among the rest of the bottles, I am sure, 
there is a large one filled with laudanum. Two table- 
spoonfuls of that poison in the coffee-pot will do the 
business for the entire brood of vipers. Shall they not 
have it, Cuddle V 

The dwarf bowed quickly, with sly but fervent 
jubilance. 

“ Then it only remains for us to consider how we shall 
secure the poison, and how we shall use it with the least 
risk of detection,” said Arty, gravely. “ These are very 
essential points, Cuddle, for Medlar and his friends will 
kill us if they so much as suspect one half I have said 
to you already. Shall we take Cuffee into our confi- 
dence?” 

“ Of course,” replied the dwarf. 4< He feels just as 
we do.” 

“ Is that Cuffee yonder ?” Cuddle bowed. 

u Then call him here.” 

Cuddle complied with the injunction, and the three 
counter-conspirators were soon deeply absorbed in the 
details of their desperate project. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE RESULT. 

At last Medlar was happy. 

Seated at the head of the cabin-table in the Bunting , 
dispensing smiles and good cheer to his minions, he felt 
that he had turned his long worthless existence to capi- 
tal account. With the stanch brig and her cargo at his 
service, and with an almost unlimited capability of wick- 
edness opening before him, he flattered himself that he 
was about to make his mark upon the great world in 
which he had so long lived unnoticed 

“ Fill up, boys,” he called, after he had seen that his 
fellow-conspirators were all in the places assigned them. 
“ It may not be putting on much style for us to open a 
grand breakfast with brandy, but I can swear that it is 
perfectly natural.” 

A roar of noisy approval attested that this was the 
general sentiment. 

“ And agreeable, too, Cap’n Medlar,” affirmed Rodding ? 
who had planted himself at the opposite end of the table. 
“ Let others do as they will, / will never go back upon 
a friend,” and he raised his tumbler of brandy into view, 
“ who has never refused to cheer and refresh me when 
called upon.” 

The approval of these sentiments was as uproarious 
as before. 


[145] 



146 


The Young Castaways 


“ Are you all helped, boys ?” cried Medlar, looking 
around upon his confederates. “ If so, let us all drink 
to the success of the business upon which we have 
entered !” 

The proposal was honored amid great enthusiasm. 

“ That boy is steering as wild as a catamount,” mut- 
tered Medlar, putting down his tumbler, as the brig 
gave a wide yaw. 

The “ boy ” in the case was Arty. 

It was the first time he had ever been put to steering 
the brig, and on more accounts than one he was unusu- 
ally nervous and excited, so that his inexperience at the 
task was vividly apparent. 

“ He’s doing very well for the time he has been at the 
business, Cap’n Medlar,” cried Rodding, with a laugh. 
“ As he gets older — in our training — he will naturally 
get wiser !” 

“ He’s the only man on duty, I believe ?” 

“ Yes, sir !” 

Such was the fact. The minions of Medlar were all 
collected at his table. 

“ He will have no trouble in managing the brig, I 
hope ?” continued Medlar. 

“ Not the least in this wind and sea,” declared Rod- 
ding. “ Besides, he is out of mischief. So long as he is 
steering the brig he will not be caught giving aid and 
comfort to his friends in the hold !” 

At this reference to the situation of Captain Strong 
and his fellow prisoners, there was a general increase of 
merriment on the part of the conspirators. 

“ Pity they are not here to share the feast with us,” 
muttered Medlar. “ But sin brings its own punishment, 
you know, even as virtue is ever its own reward. They 
must make the best of the awkward little box in which 


The Result . 


H7 


they have placed themselves by claiming a morality 
superior to ours !” 

“ What do you propose to do with them, Cap’n Medlar ?” 
asked Brad. 

“ Haven't fully decided the point, ” answered Medlar, 
with a consequential toss of the head. “ Their fate will 
depend in a measure upon circumstances. For instance, 
if I should find a good master for them among the Arabs 
of the Morocco coast, I think I would part with them at 
a very low price. In any case, it will be rather essential 
for us to leave them in such snug quarters that they 
will not report our proceedings for a long time to 
come !” 

“ There is only one place that answers to the require- 
ments of the occasion,’' avowed Rodding, with a fiendish 
leer, “ and that is a snug little hole just about two 
miles below me at this very moment !” 

A look of ominous gravity passed over Medlar’s face 
at the suggestion. 

“You are right there, Mr. Rodding,” he affirmed. 
“The ocean alone is a perfectly sure hiding-place — a 
grave that never betrays its secrets !” 

The teeth and forks of the guests had been busy while 
these remarks were in progress, and the scene the 
cabin now presented was one of prodigal feasting and 
carousal. The very choicest stores of the brig had 
been placed under contribution for the breakfast, and 
the two Africans had been as busy as bees in its pre- 
paration since long before daylight. Without wasting 
our time to go into details, we may say, in general 
terms, that it was a breakfast (in more ways than one) 
to which all of those present had until that hour been 
total strangers. 

“ We’re living at last, Cap’n Medlar,” called Rodding 
to his superior. 


The Young Castaways \ 


148 


‘"Yes, and long may this sort of thing continue,” 
returned Medlar, with a maudlin gesture. “ I see you 
all appreciate the little attention I am paying you, and 
trust you will all be perfectly happy. Are you all 
helped, by the way, to a cup of this prime old Java ?” 

A general affirmative was given him. 

“ It is like nectar,” declared Medlar, allowing the 
beverage to fall in a miniature cascade from his spoon. 
“ For once, that black rascal, its namesake, has outdone 
himself. Another cup, Cuddle, and see that nobody is 
neglected.” 

The alacrity with which Cuddle responded to the 
injunction was a little marred by an unwonted nervous- 
ness which was manifesting itself in his every look and 
action. Cuffee, too, was as excited as his fellow. Both 
trembled as they marked the general attention the 
beverage so highly extolled was receiving. 

“ That's old Java, is it?” ejaculated Brad, as he 
supped his second cup. 

“ It’s certainly so labelled,” replied Medlar. 

“ In that case I am afraid the infant has been changed 
in the cradle.” 

“ Why, how is that, Brad ?” 

“ It may be in the burning, or the boiling, or in my 
own taste — the latter, the most likely — but it struck me 
as having an unusual flavor.” 

A slight frown gathered upon Medlar’s face at the 
remark. Rodding noticed the frown, and hastily 
nudged the critic. 

“It is not for us to make such comments here,” 
whispered the executive. “ Add that you were trying 
to say something in favor of the coffee that should be 
worthy of it.” 

Brad hastened to act upon the suggestion, and the 


The Result. 


149 


incident of the “ unusual flavor ” was instantly dismissed 
from the minds of all present. 

“ Pity that Miss Elgie will not join us,” exclaimed 
Medlar. “It would have made our breakfast a great 
deal more home-like to have seen her in Rodding’s chair. 
But the little thing is nearly scared to death with all 
our late uproar, and I could do no less than excuse her.” 

“You should have made her come, Cap’n,” said Brad, 
who, like all the rest, was more or less under the influence 
of liquor. “ The only way is to begin as you wish to go 
on. Once excuse a pert little minx like that, and you 
may continue excusing her forever.” 

“ There is something in that,” returned Medlar, who 
was now sufficiently in his cups to be quarrelsome and 
noisy. “ The next time I won’t be so easy with her. I 
have my reasons, however,” and he chuckled. “ I 
intend to have that girl educated by the nuns of Ma- 
deira, and to marry her in due course. She’s a piece of 
calico worth having.” 

The words were heard by Elgie, who was peering out 
upon the orgie, the door of her state-room being slightly 
ajar. A vivid flush passed over her sweet face, and 
was quickly followed by a death-like pallor. 

The more the conspirators drank the less they ate 
and talked. Nearly all present had now ceased eating, 
and the conversation had become a succession of ram- 
bling ejaculations. 

“ How close it is here !” suddenly murmured Rod- 
ding-. 

“ Yes, the place is like an oven,” returned Medlar. 
“ Open everything, Cuddle. Let’s have all the air you 
can give us.” 

More nervous and agitated than ever, Cuddle and 
Cuffee both hastened to obey orders. 

“ Strange how wildly that fellow is steering !” re- 


The Young Castaways . 


150 


sumed Medlar, looking at the lamp suspended above 
his head. “ I surely thought he was about to capsize 
us.” 

“ Nonsense, Cap’n,” returned Brad. “You must be 
dreaming. The Bimting is on as even a keel as before 
she was launched/* 

“ No, the boy is steering wildly/* affirmed Rodding. 
“At this rate he will have us topsy-turvy.’* 

“ As to that, I’ve reached that p’int already,” said 
Medlar. “ The whole ship is spinning. Strange that the 
brandy should take hold of me in this way ! I was 
never more sleepy in my life. How hot it is ! More air, 
Cuddle ! more air !” 

The dwarf cast one wild glance of startled inquiry at 
Medlar, and then slipped to the door and to the deck — 
a movement in which he was at once imitated by 
Cuffee. 

“ Perhaps a cigar’ll set me right,” muttered Medlar, 
passing his hand over his eyes. “ The cigars, Cuddle — 
the cigars !” 

No response being given him, the demand was 
repeated. 

“ You’ll call in vain,” then said Rodding. “ The 
black rascals have left us.” 

“ Left us !” 

“ They’ve gone on deck, Cap’n, and we can’t do better 
than follow them. But — ” 

The man hesitated, staring wildly around. 

“But what, Rodding?” 

“ Don’t you see that Brad has tumbled ? He’s in a 
dead sleep already !” 

“ Well, I am not far from the same fix,” growled Med- 
lar. “ Seems to me that there is something strange in 
all this business. Perhaps another sip of coffee will 
help me !” 


The Result . 


151 


He drank a few swallows and then put down his cup 
with a gesture of horror and consternation. 

“ There is a queer taste in the cup !” he cried, start- 
ing to his feet. “ Did not Brad say so ?” 

“Yes, he did!” 

“ There's a cause for it ” cried Medlar, turning deadly 
pale. “ We have been drugged by the black rascals ! 
We are poisoned !” 

“ Poisoned ? You think so ?” 

“ But I’ll have my revenge !” 

Drawing a revolver, Medlar staggered several steps 
in the direction of the companion-way, and then came 
to a halt, gasping and reeling. 

“ Too late,” he muttered. “ I can see nothing. All is 
dark !” 

And he sank down in a heap upon the floor. 

Rodding tore at his own breast a moment, as he also 
struggled toward the deck. 

“ It is even so,” he then cried. “ We are poisoned !” 

He made one brief but desperate effort to cast off the 
effect of the drug he had taken, and then he, too, sank 
down unconscious. 

In three minutes more, a silence like that of death 
had taken possession of the cabin. 

Elgie stole out of her state-room — cast a glance of 
relief and satisfaction around her — and then bounded to 
the deck. 

“ It is done !” she shouted — “ it is done.” 

Cuddle and Cuffee at once struck hands and entered 
upon one of their “native tear-arounds,” as Capt. 
Strong had called them. 

As to Arty, he steered a few moments more wildly 
than ever, and then said to Elgie : 

“ Bring the bunch of keys from Medlar’s pocket.” 

The girl hastened to obey him. 


152 


The Young Castaways. 


“ And now go down into the hold and set the captain 
free.” 

This was quickly accomplished. And once free 
himself, Capt. Strong hastened to release his fellow- 
sufferers. In less than five minutes more they were all 
upon deck. 

“ Take the helm there, Merrick !” called the com- 
mander. “ That boy has saved us.” 

The “ tear-around ” of Cuddle and Cuffee had now 
become terrific, and something very like it succeeded 
on the part of Capt. Strong and Arty and Elgie, and all 
the friends so strangely restored to them. The scene 
then and there presented, in fact, was one of those 
which make up for almost any amount of suffering, and 
one which we may safely leave to the imagination of 
the reader. Our brave Arty had, at length, reached a 
tremendous triumph. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

A SUSPICIOUS VISITOR. 

The first beams of a glorious day were just breaking 
over the ocean, nearly two weeks later than the occur- 
rences of the preceding chapter. 

“ Is not that land ahead to the right of us, Captain 
Strong ?” asked Arty, as he and the commander of the 
Bunting walked slowly back and forth upon the brig's 
deck. 

“ Yes, my lad,” was the reply. “That is the north 
end of the island of St. Antonio !” 

The island in question is the westernmost of the Cape 


A Suspicioits Visitor . 


153 


de Verdes. Knowing that his destination would bring 
him to that neighborhood, Arty had for some days 
been qualifying himself with the captain’s books and 
charts for an acquaintance with the group, but he was 
hardly prepared for the bald and naked appearance the 
island presented, a few moments later, when the gray, 
cold mists and shadows had been dispelled around it. 

“ Why, it looks like a mere rock standing out of the 
water !” he exclaimed. 

Captain Strong smiled. 

“ That’s just what it is — only it’s a rather large rock,” 
he affirmed. “ None of the islands off the west coast of 
Africa are anything more. They are all of volcanic 
origin. They were all vomited forth from the interior 
of the earth long, long ago — some thousands of years, 
more or less, from the present time.” 

Securing the captain’s glass, Arty gazed long and 
earnestly to the southward. 

“We are rounding St. Antonio,” he then ejaculated. 

“ Naturally, or we should not reach the island next 
beyond it — St. Vincent.” 

“ That is St. Vincent, then — that rock farther to the 
northward ?” 

“Yes, that rock contains the best port in the whole 
group — Porto Grande,” said Captain Strong. “ It is 
to that port that we are bound, as I must have already 
mentioned.” 

The winds being light and unfavorable, the advance 
of the brig was- not rapid, although she was aided by 
the current, which in the waters of the Cape de Verdes 
has a strong tendency to the eastward during all sea- 
sons and breezes. It was some hours later, or rather 
past the middle of the forenoon, when the Bunting 
reached her proposed berth in Porto Grande and 
dropped her anchor. 


154 


The Young Castaways . 


“ Out with her boat, Mr. Merrick,” commanded Cap- 
tain Strong. “ I’ll lose no time in getting ashore, for I 
want to get rid of those ruffians in the hold as soon as 
possible.” 

The boat was promptly lowered, and Gillet and 
Mason, two of the best seamen aboard the brig, were 
detailed to row her. 

“ As I leave you in charge, Mr. Merrick,” said Captain 
Strong to his executive — for Merrick was now in the 
position of which Medlar had proved so unworthy — “ I 
have no other orders to give you than to enjoin you to 
be watchful. Those rascals below know where we are, 
and may make some desperate attempt at the recovery 
of their freedom.” 

“ I will look out for them, sir,” returned Merrick, 
quietly. “ There’s hardly an hour of the day— or night 
— when I do not see them.” 

Elgie came hurrying on deck at this juncture joining 
Capt. Strong and Arty, and was as delighted at finding 
herself at Porto Grande as a bird at escaping from its 
prison. 

“ Oh, how beautiful !” was her first involuntary cry. 

Capt. Strong and Arty smiled indulgently, as the 
latter threw his arm protectingly around the girl. To 
them the scene shorewards was far from meriting her 
enthusiasm, except upon the theory that all forms of 
terra firma are lovely to eyes which have long had only 
the surface of the boundless ocean to rest upon. 

“ Well, if you are so pleased with the scene, my young 
lady,” said Capt. Strong, “ get ready as soon as } r ou can, 
and you shall go ashore with us.” 

The delighted girl was ready in a few moments, and 
the little party was soon embarked and on its way to the 
landing. 

“ As you see, Arty,” said Capt. Strong, “ the harbor is 


A Suspicious Visitor . 


155 


completely protected from the westwardly winds by the 
island of St. Antonio. There is room here for hundreds 
of ships.” 

“ And yet there is only one in sight,” returned Arty, 
scanning every portion of the vast semi-circular bay 
before him, “ and that is a brig like ours. One would 
almost say it is the Bunting 

“ Indeed !” exclaimed the commander. He was 
interested at once. “ Your eyes are good, boy,” he 
said, after a searching glance at the stranger. “ She 
may be one of our Salem traders.” 

There was quite a swell upon the harbor, as indeed is 
usually the case at Porto Grande, but the occupants of 
the boat did not even notice the fact, so entirely were 
their thoughts given up to the scene around them. 

“ The shores don’t look so beautiful now,” Elgie was 
soon constrained to say. “ One would almost think 
they have been scorched in a great fire. How barren 
and desolate they are !” 

The town was now coming into view, looking quite as 
unpromising as the shores around it. It is composed of 
about a hundred miserable hovels, which are constructed 
of small, loose stones, in the manner of stone fences, 
and which stand in rows, with some pretence of 
regularity. 

“ Not a very inviting prospect, I must say,” muttered 
Captain Strong, half to himself. 

“ Have you never been here before, sir ?” asked Elgie. 

“ No ; and I shall never wish to come again. But 
business is business. If we can hand over our mutineers 
to the consul, 1 shall have no complaints to make of 
the country.” 

As the boat neared the landing, quite a crowd of 
ragged and unkempt persons of nearly all complexions 
save white were seen gathering upon the dilapidated 


The Young Castaivays. 


156 


little piers and along the adjacent roads. In the midst 
of the motley groups were several individuals who 
were displaying the airs of “ brief authority,” and it 
was to one of these active personages that Captain 
Strong addressed himself at the moment of landing. 

“ I want to see the governor,” said the commander, 
stepping ashore. 

“ Berry good, sah,” came the instant response. “ I is 
she !” 

“ What ! you ?” 

The hardy skipper recoiled in amazement. 

The party laying claim to the governorship of Porto 
Grande and the surrounding country was barefooted 
and barelegged, and with hardly clothes enough upon 
his person to have wadded a shot-gun. At the first 
blush he would have been taken for a negro, so swarthy 
was his complexion, but he was mostly Portuguese. 

“ I am glad to see you, sir,” said Captain Strong, 
accepting the rather dirty hand that was proffered him. 
“ There has been a mutiny aboard of my vessel, the brig 
yonder, and I have several men in irons, to be delivered 
up to the consul and sent home for trial.” 

The governor replied vivaciously, speaking his native 
dialect exclusively, but Capt. Strong comprehended that 
he was referring the whole matter to the Consular Agent 
of the United States in his dominions. 

“ And where is this Consular Agent, if you please ?” 
asked the commander. 

“ She go fishing,” answered the governor, jerking his 
arm seaward. “ No,” and he jerked his arm home again, 
“ she coming.” 

In effect, another barefooted individual, in dirty gilt 
lace and gilt buttons, was seen sauntering toward the 
landing. 

“ Him the Consular of America,” added the governor, 


A Suspicious Visitor . 


T 57 


with a flourish toward the new-comer. “ She attend to 
you, sah." 

The “ consular " was soon on the spot. He was as 
much like the governor as one pea is like another — of 
the same mixed and dingy complexion, but chiefly of 
Portuguese origin. 

“ Glad to see you, Mr. Consul/' said Capt. Strong, after 
the governor had introduced his confrere . “ There has 

been a mutiny on our vessel, and I wish to hand the 
mutineers over to your charge and keeping." 

The consular agent looked considerably abashed at 
the announcement, but he was quite an adept in the use 
of the English language, and lost no time in demanding : 

“ How many of these men are there ?" 

“ Five, sir." 

“ Five, sir ?” echoed the agent, with a start of astonish- 
ment. “ Why, that is just the strength of the governor’s 
army — only three of our soldiers are negroes, and one 
of the three is a worthless cripple. Five, sir ? Why, they 
will devour us — throw us into the sea — scoop us !" 

“ But you have a jail here, of course — a prison of some 
kind—" 

“ No, sir. That is to say, our old prison is being made 
into lime — there’s just one burning of it — and our new 
prison is not yet dug out of the quarry. All I can show 
you is the place where the new jail is designed to be." 

“ Then what am I to do ?" asked Capt. Strong. u I 
don’t wish to carry these murderous ruffians all over 
creation with me. They ought to be sent home for trial 
and punishment." 

The agent reflected with an intensity born of desper- 
ation. 

“ I’ll tell you what to do," he said. “ The United States 
frigate Macedon was here the other day, and I expect 
her back from one minute to another. Suppose you 


158 The Young Castaways . 


remain quietly at anchor a day or two, and wait for the 
frigate ?” 

“ But is she sure to arrive within a couple of days ?” 

“ I can almost swear it.” 

“ Then I will stay,” decided Capt. Strong. “ And as 
there is nothing better on my hands, Mr. Consul, I will 
improve the next hour or two in showing the country to 
the young friends who are with me.” 

The agent and governor both lent themselves actively 
to the views of the commander, and a couple of hours 
were passed very pleasantly to Arty and Elgie in and 
around the singular little village. The pay of the gov- 
ernor being only a dollar a day, he could not put on a 
great deal of style in his entertainment, but he did what 
he could. The port dues are four dollars per ship, how- 
ever. and as about one whaleman per week had visited 
him during the preceding year, he was far from grum- 
bling at his pay. 

The visit over, the little party returned to the Bunting . 

“ It’ll be dull music to wait here even two days,” said 
Captain Strong, after he had reported the position of 
affairs to Merrick. a But I want to get rid of those cut- 
throats, and can see no better way out of the snarl than 
the consular agent has suggested !” 

“ Perhaps our neighbor yonder will give us a hint,” 
said Merrick, indicating with a gesture the strange brig 
on the opposite side of the bay. “ I see he has got out 
a boat and is coming in this direction !” 

In the utter absence of all excitement, the approach 
of the stranger’s boat was at once the subject of general 
attention and inquiry. It. was soon alongside the Bunt- 
ing , and a tall, muscular personage climbed up the side 
and presented himself to the captain. 

“ My name is Genny,” he said. “ I command the 
English brig you see yonder. I am anxious to leave 


A Suspicious Visitor. 


*59 


this place, as you may suppose, but I am short-handed, 
having lost several of my men upon the west coast and 
several others being down with the fever. I have 
accordingly taken the liberty of visiting you to inquire 
if you can spare me two or three men !” 

Captain Strong shook his head regretfully. 

“You have come to the wrong market, Captain 
Genny,” he said, smilingly. “ I am short-handed 
myself. The fact is, sir, there has been a mutiny 
aboard my vessel, and one half of the men with whom 
I left Salem are in irons !” 

“ Indeed ! Is it possible ?” exclaimed Captain Genny, 
showing a great deal of interest, and even a great 
excitement. “ How did it happen ?” 

Captain Strong briefly stated the facts, to all of 
which the visitor listened with the most marked 
interest. 

“ You are right in keeping the rascals where they 
are,” he commented. “ You can guard them better 
here than they would be guarded ashore. As to the 
United States frigate, she will doubtless arrive within 
a day or two. I shall delay my own departure with a 
view to getting some assistance from her !” 

The visitor had scarcely taken his leave, returning to 
his own brig, when Captain Strong and Merrick 
exchanged a few words about him. 

“ He seems to me to be a dangerous character,” said 
Merrick. “ Did you notice how he watched us all, and 
noted everything !” 

“Yes. I thought he was getting a little too intimate 
when he hinted that he would like to see the prisoners, 
and that is why I pretended not to understand him. 
It’s all right, however. What harm could he do us 
if he wished to ? All that can be said of him is that — 
if he’s an honest man — mother nature ought to be sued 


i6o 


The Young Castaways . 


in heavy damages for attaching such a countenance to 
his body !” 

“ My impression is that the said countenance is a fair 
indication of Capt. Genny’s character/’ declared Mer- 
rick. “ But, as you say, the fact can do us no harm, and 
does not in the least concern us.” 

The matter was dropped here, and nothing more 
thought about it. The visitor soon regained his brig 
and vanished into his cabin, at the same instant that 
his man disappeared into the forecastle, and for an 
hour thereafter not the least sign of life was presented 
in that quarter. 

“ This is getting dull enough,” growled Capt. Strong, 
the next time he saw Merrick. “ I have a notion to 
hire that little launch in the harbor, and give the young 
folks the treat of a visit to St. Antonio.” 

“ Why don’t you do so, Captain ?” returned Merrick. 
“ The mutineers are all handcuffed and ironed. A 
child could manage them. I can look after everything 
here, and even communicate with the frigate in your 
place, if she should arrive before you return. You can 
easily get back in the course of to-morrow.” 

Once upon this tack, there was no change of course. 
The little sloop was chartered and provisioned, and 
Mason and Gillet took charge of her. Plenty of blankets 
and bedding were put aboard of her. Arty and Elgie 
were full of glee, of course, at the thought of visiting 
such a strange little island-world as St. Antonio, and 
were constantly giving expression to their delight. 

“ It may be the only chance you will ever have for 
the trip,” said the commander, as he lowered himself 
into the launch. “ In any case, it’s a better way of 
passing the next twenty-four hours than to swelter 
here at doing nothing.” 


A General Revenge . 


161 


A few minutes later the sloop was standing out of 
. the harbor. 

“ See !” suddenly cried Elgie. “ Captain Genny is 
looking at us !” 

All eyes were instantly turned upon the strange brig. 
A puff of wind had suddenly veered one of her topsails, 
disclosing a figure that lay at full length upon the yard. 
This figure was that of the morning’s visitor. He 
seemed very much interested in the affairs of his neigh- 
bor — so much so that he had been watching proceedings 
with his glass. 

“ Probably he wishes he could go along,” suggested 
Arty, smilingly. “ Or else he is merely killing time by 
watching us.” 

The observation did not meet with response, but the 
attentions of Capt. Genny seemed to leave a shadow in 
the minds of those he was watching. And it was not 
without reason. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

A GENERAL REVENGE. 

The trip to St. Antonio was delightful, of course, the 
return to Genella safely accomplished, and no time was 
lost in embarking for Porto Grande. Arty and Elgie 
were not a little fatigued, but they had seen so many 
novel sights that they could not have failed to be 
enchanted with the excursion. 

“ We shall hardly reach the Bunting before dark,” 
observed Capt. Strong, as the party waved their final 


The Voting Castaways . 


162 


adieus to the groups they had left behind them, “ but 
with such a fine evening before us it does not matter/' s 

The launch had not made three miles to the east- 
ward, however, when a sail was seen to loom out of the 
haze directly ahead of her, but hull down upon the hor- 
izon." 

“ It is the Bunting ," exclaimed Capt. Strong, after a 
long look at the sail. “ And she is coming in this direc- 
tion. 

For a moment he was too puzzled by the discovery to 
make further comment. 

“ I see," he then said, partly in answer to he ques- 
tions of Arty and Elgie, and partly in response to his 
own internal speculations. “ The United States frigate 
having arrived, Merrick has got rid of our mutineers, and 
as that finishes our business in these waters, he has 
decided to get under way and come and meet us — a 
very good idea," he added, with a sweeping glance at 
the sea and sky, “ as we shall be safer on the brig, in 
case of another squall, than in our present quarters." 

A few minutes' observation of the brig confirmed 
Capt. Strong in the views he had formed of her move- 
ments. The course she was steering was bringing her 
directly toward the launch, and with the constantly 
freshening breeze in her favor, it was already clear 
enough that she would reach the launch about night- 
fall. 

But suddenly came a further discovery to mystify the 
excursionists. 

A second brig had hove in sight — evidently that of 
Capt. Genny — and was standing steadily to the west- 
ward in the wake of the first. 

“ That’s odd," commented Capt. Strong, as soon as 
he had noticed the fact. “ Captain Genny claimed to be 
English, and to be anxious to proceed to England, but 


A General Revenge. 


163 


it would look from the present movement as if he were 
bound for the Gulf of Guinea.” 

“ An hour more will clear up the mystery,” suggested 
Arty. 

“ It’s all right, of course,” said the commander, half 
to himself. “ Capt. Genny may have changed his mind. 
In any case, he has a right to follow any course he 
pleases.” 

It would be an idle task to report all the speculations 
that were indulged in during the next hour aboard the 
launch. The curiosity of the watchers gradually 
became tinged with more or less uneasiness, owing 
chiefly to the mist which prevented the brig from being 
seen as distinctly as possible. 

“ It's clear she’s not carrying as much sail as she 
might,” said Capt. Strong to Arty, “ and that strikes 
me as curious. One would say that Merrick would 
wish to reach us as soon as he can — before dark, if pos- 
sible.” 

“ He is short-handed, we must remember,” returned 
Arty. “ Perhaps he does not wish to shake out too much 
canvas, for fear of being caught in a squall.” 

“ Good. The remark is sensible,” said the commander, 
with a sigh of relief. “ That is doubtless the correct 
explanation of the matter.” 

Nearer and nearer came the launch and the brig to 
each other, but both were now enveloped in a double 
pall of haze and twilight that prevented Captain Strong 
and his friends from recognizing any of the few figures 
visible upon the latter’s deck. The two crafts came 
together just as twilight was yielding to night. 

“ It is curious they don’t hail us,” muttered Captain 
Strong, as the brig loomed up in the fast-gathering 
shadows immediately before him. “ One would even 
say that they do not see us.” 


i6 4 The Young Castaways. 


The course of the brig was indeed laid so directly 
upon the launch, that the commander soon called 
energetically : 

“ Look out there! Where are you steering? You 
will run us down/' 

No answer came from the brig — not the least change 
in her course. 

“ Look out there, I say !” cried Capt. Strong, leaping 
to his feet and seizing the helm of the launch. “ You 
are running us down !” 

The fact was not only patent, but it was now easy to 
see that the act was intentional. 

What did it mean ? 

Before Captain Strong could do more than thunder 
his warnings again, the brig came crashing down upon 
him, striking the launch amidships, and thrusting her 
under the waves as quickly as if she had been made of 
paper ! 

In such a collision, only one movement is natural — to 
jump as far as possible out of the water. 

In an instant every person who had been upon the 
launch was struggling in the water — every one save Cap- 
tain Strong, who had caught one of the chains under the 
brig’s bowsprit and swung himself aboard her by an 
extraordinary effort. 

It seemed, however, as if those aboard of the brig were 
anxious to do all they could for the rescue of the strug- 
gling victims in the water. A boat was lowered, the 
brig hove to, and a number of ropes trailed overboard. 
And so, in a few minutes all the imperiled persons, 
including Arty and Elgie, were either picked up by the 
boat or drawn aboard with ropes. 

Until now Captain Strong had not spoken a word 
beyond giving the necessary orders for the rescue of his 
companions, but it would have been easy to see by his 


A General Revenge . 


165 


movements that he was consumed with a most violent 
rage and disgust. How had such a stupid accident been 
possible ? 

“ Where is Mr. Merrick?” he cried, when he had 
assured himself that all his late associates had been duly 
saved or had saved themselves. 

“ Here, sir,” said a figure, advancing in the darkness. 

The captain started. How strange that responsive 
voice sounded ! 

“ Bring a light !” he shouted. 

The order was obeyed as if by magic, and then a sur- 
prise of which the commander [would never have even 
dreamed burst upon him. 

The man before him was Medlar ! 

Never in all his life had Captain Strong been so 
astonished as at that moment. 

“ Medlar !” he ejaculated, as if he could not receive 
the evidence of his senses. 

“ As you see, Mr. Strong,” said the villain, with an 
insolent and jubilant smile. 

“ And who are these people around you ?” asked Cap- 
tain Strong, with another start of surprise, as he per- 
ceived that at least a dozen rough-looking men had 
gathered around him. 

“ These, sir ?” returned Medlar. u Oh, they are my 
men !” 

He made a significant gesture as he spoke, and in less 
then ten seconds thereafter, Captain Strong, despite a 
desperate resistance, was a helpless prisoner in the hands 
of the vile swarm, and bound hand and foot. 

“ Seize the rest of them, all but the blacks and the 
boy and girl !” added Medlar, as he flashed a glance of 
villainous triumph upon his followers. “ Down with 
them !” 

The task was not an easy one, despite the immense 


1 66 The Young Castaways . 


superiority of the assailants. Gillet and Mason were 
especially formidable in their struggles. But they were 
at length secured — the latter in a state of unconscious- 
ness, so severely had he been treated, and the former 
the recipient of several severe bruises and gashes. 

“Take them to the hold !” was the brief order of 
Medlar, in a stern voice. 

The two sailors were at once removed. 

“ Where is Mr. Merrick ?” asked Capt. Strong. 

“ He is in the hold — precisely in the same spot and in 
the same circumstances in which you left me, Mr. 
Strong, when you set out upon your little excursion.” 

The commander groaned internally — not so much for 
himself as for Arty and Elgie, who were now by his 
side and endeavoring to say or do something to console 
him in his affliction. 

“ The thing is a surprise to you, no doubt,” continued 
Medlar, with the natural volubility of his triumph. 
“ The fact is, your expected frigate has not yet put in 
an appearance. But excuse me a moment — I must send 
up a rocket for the benefit of my ally.” 

He hastened to execute this purpose. 

“ That is to let Genny know that I have you in safe 
keeping,” observed the villain, as he came back to Capt. 
Strong. 

“ Genny is acting with you, then ?” asked the com- 
mander, as he began recalling mentally the particulars 
of the visit that personage had made him. 

“ Certainly, Genny is acting with me, ’’affirmed Medlar, 
complacently. “ The fact is, he and I have long been 
old friends, as much as the circumstance may take you 
by surprise. It was once my good fortune to save Genny’s 
life. And who do you suppose Capt. Genny really is ?” 

“ Some infamous villain, no doubt,” responded Capt 
Strong, bitterly, 


A General Revenge . 


167 


“ He is no less a personage than the notorious slave- 
trader, De Soto affirmed Medlar, in a consequential 
voice, “ and the way in which I happened to save his 
life was by hiding him in an empty cask in the hold of 
the schooner of which I was in charge when he was 
being hunted by a boat’s crew from one of Uncle 
Sam’s cruisers, the last time I was in the Bight of 
Benin/' 

“ A worthy associate, I must say.” 

“ And a very profitable one, too,” declared Medlar, 
without noticing the bitterness of Capt. Strong’s obser- 
vation. “ It was upon the occasion in question that 
Genny De Soto and I learned to appreciate each other — 
upon that occasion, in fact, that he suggested to me the 
little transaction with which I have been busy ever 
since we left Salem.” 

“ You mean the seizure of the brig ?” 

“ Exactly — the seizure of the brig.” 

“ It is a bold project for even De Soto,” said the com- 
mander. “You can hardly have expected to seize the 
brig under a bushel ?” 

“ Well, why not, if you please ? Who is to know it ? 
Are not hundreds of vessels lost every year in the dif- 
ferent waters of the world — vessels that are never even 
heard from after leaving port — and of these hundreds, 
how many, do you suppose, are seized for one cause or 
another by the lawless ruffians aboard of them, and car- 
ried off to snug retreats ? Many a ship that is supposed 
to have foundered, or to have encountered an iceberg has 
in reality been seized, with all the treasures aboard of 
her, by a band of cut-throats shipping as crew in her !” 

If Capt. Strong had any doubts of the correctness of 
these views, he did not express them. 

“And so you expect to seize the Bunting and get off 


1 68 The Young Castaways. 


without even being suspected ?” he asked, after a 
thoughtful pause. 

“ Certainly — I expect to go my ways unmolested/' 
declared Medlar, complacently. “ But, to be sure, I 
shall take my little precautions." 

“ Is not your De Soto or Genny — whatever you call 
him — following us ?” asked the commander. 

“ Certainly. We are going to the west coast together, 
and will then push out for the Brazils or Cuba with a 
fine lot of ebony-wood. Ha, ha !” and the villain 
laughed boisterously, “ how well our little surprise was 
managed. Genny has been anchored at Porto Grande 
a week, waiting for me, for it was agreed that I should 
come there with the Bunting. Instead of being short- 
handed as represented, Genny had men enough with 
him to man two or three such brigs as this, for the 
reason that he is a man of pluck, and intends to fight 
for his rights in what he believes to be a legitimate 
branch of commerce. The vessel he's in was honestly 
bought of an old African trader who had made up his 
mind to retire from the business. Genny likes me, 
even as I like him, and I haven’t the least doubt that 
we shall do a great business together." 

Capt. Strong had heard quite enough of the villain's 
easy confidences, and would have gladly questioned him 
about more important matters, and especially about the 
fates reserved for Arty and Elgie and himself. He was 
spared all direct questions upon this point, however, by 
Medlar, who roused himself from a brief abstraction, 
and said : 

“ You will understand, Mr. Strong, that a great many 
cares are pressing upon me at this moment, and will 
excuse me from any further remarks at present. There 
is, doubtless, plenty of room for you in the hold, with 
Merrick and the rest, and so the boys can now remove 


A General Revenge \ 


169 


you thither, and make you as comfortable as your 
straitened circumstances will permit.” 

At a nod from him, two of the stalwart ruffians 
present at once laid hands upon the commander to bear 
him to his prison. 

“ One moment,” cried Captain Strong, turning to 
Medlar ; “ what do you intend to do with these poor 
children ?” 

“ Poor children !” echoed Medlar, with a frightful 
oath. “ A poor child 9 indeed is that boy ! Perhaps 
you don't recall the breakfast he gave us the other day 
in mid-ocean ?” 

“ It was Cuffee or Cuddle who drugged the coffee on 
that occasion.” 

“ Cuffee or Cuddle ! Why, those black rascals have 
no more backbone than a tadpole. They never would 
have thought of such a measure, and still less w r ould 
have dared to take a step toward carrying it out. I 
don’t want any of your gammon on the subject of that 
breakfast, Mr. Strong. It was that ‘ poor child ’ that 
planned the thing — that * poor child ’ who stood behind 
the blackamoors and actually forced them to carry out 
his purpose. And he’ll have to settle for his hash 
before I am done with him, you may be certain !” 

The words and manner of the ruffian struck a chill to 
the commander’s heart. 

“ In any case,” he said, “ you must remember that the 
lad was strictly within his rights, whatever he did. Far 
from blaming him for his courage, you should honor 
him !” 

“ Oh, I will honor him fast enough,” said Medlar, in 
a husky voice, and with a face black as a thunder-cloud. 
“ He shall not want a suitable reward for his courage, I 
can assure you !” 

Repeating his silent orders to his minions, they bore 


170 


The Young Castaways . 


the captain to the hold despite the earnest intercessions 
of Arty and Elgie, who were even denied the poor 
privilege of sharing his prison. 

“ No, my youngsters,” said Medlar, when he was alone 
with the young couple, “I have other views for you. 
For the moment, you will occupy your old quarters in 
the cabin !” 

Leading the way thither, he added : 

“ I shall be very busy for the next day or two, and I 
hope you will keep out of my sight as much as possible, 
and say nothing to me !” 

“ One question,” said Arty. “ What do you intend to 
do with Captain Strong Y 9 

“ That is my affair !” 

“ Where are Cuddle and Cuffee ?” 

“ I flung them both overboard the minute Genny and 
his men released me.” 

The declaration was doubly false ; the two blacks 
having flung themselves overboard at the very com- 
mencement of the attack, and having escaped to the 
shore. 

“ And as I have now answered two questions for you, 
instead of one, as you proposed, you will excuse me 
from any further attendance. All you have to do is to 
make yourself at home here — for the present.” 

He went on deck, securing the entrance behind him. 
His manner was so indicative of a savage hatred that 
Arty and Elgie shuddered. 

“ Oh, he will kill us !” murmured the girl, as she threw 
herself into Arty's arms. 

“ Perhaps not,” was all the boy could say in reply. 
“ And perhaps he may do worse — kill me and save you 
alive.” 

The oppression of their thoughts during the next few 
hours can be but faintly imagined. They talked until 


A General Revenge , 


171 


they had schooled themselves into something like 
equanimity, and then retired to their respective state- 
rooms, but not to sleep. 

It was not long after their separation that Medlar 
looked into the cabin, listened a moment, and then 
quietly withdrew. 

“ All is quiet there/’ he said to himself. “ The young- 
sters are doubtless asleep.” 

The whole gang of conspirators were now upon deck, 
all appearing intent upon some sinister project. 

“ Out with the boat now, Mr. Rodding,” said Medlar 
to his executive. “ We may as well be rid of them.” 

The order was executed in profound silence, the 
blocks having been especially greased for the measure. 

" Bring up the prisoners !” then commanded Medlar. 

A couple of minutes sufficed for the execution of the 
order. 

“ As I told you, Mr. Strong,” said Medlar, malignantly, 
“ I must take my little precautions. I am going to send 
you and your faithful hounds adrift. Doubtless you will 
be carried straight to St. Vincent,” he added, mock- 
ingly. “ But if you are you needn’t blame me.” 

“ You are free to murder us, I suppose,” answered 
the commander, scornfully. “ But we shall at least 
have the privilege of dying like men ! Remember, 
however, that for every wrong you may do those 
helpless children you will be called to a fearful account !” 

“ Enough of your preaching,” exclaimed Medlar, 
turning away. “ It won’t help them any more than it 
helpsyou.” 

At a gesture his men began removing the prisoners 
to the boat. The task was not a long one, nor did it 
present the least difficulty. Ironed and handcuffed as 
they were, the victims conld not oppose the least resist- 
ance. 


1 72 The Young Castaways . 


“ There you are !” said Medlar, with an infernal 
chuckle, when Capt. Strong had been placed in the 
boat, thus completing its load “ A long good-night to 
you !” 

He cast off the boat as he spoke, and it went adrift 
upon the dark waters. 

“That ends them,” added Medlar, as the frail craft 
receded from his view. “ In ten minutes they will be 
under.” 

Giving a few orders to Rodding, he proceeded to the 
cabin, took possession of the quarters so lately occupied 
by Capt. Strong, and within five minutes thereafter was 
sleeping as soundly as if no shadow of crime had ever 
rested upon him. 

His first work in the morning was to assure Arty and 
Elgie that Capt. Strong and the rest had made their 
escape during the night in one of the brig’s boats. The 
young couple would not believe him, but when he had 
shown them through the hold and every portion of the 
ship, they could not fail to recognize the absence of 
their friends and to form a suspicion of the real facts in 
the case. For a few hours thereafter, they were com- 
pletely crushed by their many and terrible afflictions. 

Day after day the Bunting stood on her course to the 
southward, closely followed by the brig belonging to 
De Soto. Beyond keeping their fears alive with sundry 
ominous threats, Medlar said very little to the young 
couple. But at length, one afternoon, the brig arrived 
in a sort of river channel between two low coasts and 
came to anchor. Medlar and a couple of his men went 
to the southernmost of these low coasts in a boat, 
returning just at nightfall. 

“Your hash is settled, my young friends,” he said, 
the moment his eyes rested upon Arty and Elgie. “ I 
have sdld you.” 


A General Revenge . 


*73 


The couple looked at him in as much wonder as con- 
sternation. 

“ How sold us ?” asked Arty. 

“ To an old king who resides upon the shore ahead 
of us. And I am now ready to transfer you to your 
new owners. If there is anything in your state-rooms 
that you want, my young friends, be lively about get- 
ting it, for in just three minutes you will be off to your 
new master.” 

Both Arty and Elgie were too full of horror for 
remonstrance or entreaty. In good truth it seemed to 
them that no fate could be worse than to live with the 
wretches around them. They accordingly obeyed all 
the orders given them by Medlar, soon taking their 
places in the boat alongside. A half-hour’s row 
brought them to a silent and marshy shore, which 
seemed scarcely higher than the water. 

“ Tumble out !” cried Medlar as the boat touched the 
beach. 

The young couple obeyed in silence. 

“ The old king will soon come for you,” said Medlar, 
in such a tone of mockery as to provoke a loud burst of 
laughter from his men. “ He isn’t far from you ! You 
will see him soon enough !” 

And with this he went his way, soon vanishing from 
the view of his victims. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE YOUNG COUPLE IN SLAVERY. 

The young couple did not move or speak until the 
flashing of the oars of Medlar’s boat had been lost in 
the roar of the waters. 

“ They have really left us,” then murmured Elgie. 

“ And where ?” returned Arty. 

Both strained their eyes into the darkness reigning 
around them. 

“We appear to be upon an island,” continued Elgie, 
as she nestled nearer to her companion in a profound 
terror. “ There is water all around us, I think.” 

“ It appears so, Elgie. I think we are upon one of 
those low, alluvial islands which outlie several of the 
great African rivers, and particularly the Gambia. I 
am going to make an effort to learn our surroundings.” 

“ Be careful, Arty.” 

“Yes, I will. Remain just where you are. Don’t 
stir till I come back again.” 

“ Oh, Arty, I am afraid something will happen to 
you !” cried Elgie. “ It is so dark here — so lonely ! 
Everything looks so strange ! Medlar said the old king 
is near us.” 

“ I mean to see where the old king is, and what he 
is,” said Arty, stoutly. “ Do not fear for me. I will 
come back at the first sign of trouble. Be brave, dear.” 
[i74j 


The Young Couple in Slavery . 175 


Moving away slowly from the shore, Arty soon found 
himself in some low bushes by which his path was well 
nigh hidden. In less than a minute, and'before he had 
gone a score of yards, the ground became suddenly 
absent from beneath his feet, and he tumbled into a 
pool of water which enveloped him to his shoulders. 

A scream burst from Elgie, in response to his invol- 
untary cry, but he promptly scrambled out of the 
watery pitfall, at the same time reassuring the girl with 
a few cheerful words. A second plash having succeeded 
that caused by his tumble, however, he came to the 
conclusion that there were alligators in the marshy 
pools before him, and lost no time in taking his way 
back to Elgie. 

“ It’s impossible to stir a step in that direction/' he 
declared. “ We must wait until morning." 

“ Or until the old king comes for us !" 

“ I do not believe there is any old king here at all," 
declared the boy, earnestly. “ My opinion is that Med- 
lar has placed us upon an uninhabited island to die !" 

The girl’s heart fluttered wildly at the assurance. 

“ That would be horrible," she murmured. “ But it 
would be just like him !" 

“ It is the only explanation I can give of his setting 
us ashore," continued Arty. “ You knowhow he hates 
us. You know, too, that he turned Captain Strong and 
the rest adrift in a little boat, than which act there can 
be no more dreadful murder. Beyond all question, he 
has set us ashore here to die !" 

Elgie was appalled at this view of the case — too 
appalled to reply instantly. 

“ In any case, we had better remain just where we 
are until morning ; had we not ?" she finally demanded. 

“ Yes, until morning, unless the old king should come 


176 


The Young Castaways . 


for us, or something else should happen. Are you 
cold?” 

“ No ; only so scared.” 

“ Don’t be afraid, Elgie,” said Arty, drawing her head 
to his shoulder. “ I will take care of you. I brought a 
pistol and a knife from the brig, and anybody who 
undertakes to harm you will see trouble !” 

“ How cold and damp it is here!” sighed the girl. 
“ And you are all in a shiver, Arty ! I have read that 
it is dangerous to be near or upon these African rivers, 
and especially to get wet.” 

“ Never mind all that,” said the boy, hopefully. 
“ This water is salt. We are too near the sea for fevers. 
I shall be all right in a few minutes !” 

“ You must get under my cloak, Arty. What would 
become of us if you should get sick ? Hark ! is not that 
the old king coming ?” 

The plash which had startled the girl was repeated, 
but the young couple could not make out its cause. 
Probably it was some river-monster prowling or sport- 
ing near them. Finding that nothing came near them 
the couple resumed their conversation. 

It would be idle to detail the horrors of the long 
night that followed — its numerous alarms, its unseen 
terrors, its strange sights and sounds. Not once during 
the night did either of the unfortunates close their eyes 
in sleep. Slowly the hours dragged away, one more 
painful than another. Elgie as well as Arty was almost 
constantly in a shiver, especially in the hour or two 
preceding the advent of a new day. 

But at last a dull light began to break through the 
canopy of darkness, and the couple saluted its every 
new beam with thankfulness and hope. Very slowly 
the sable pall lifted, and as slowly was the circle of 
their vision extended, until at length the advent of the 


The Young Couple in Slavery . 


1 77 


sun from behind a bank of clouds dissipated the remain- 
ing shadows of the night and cast a broad sheen of 
light around them. 

For several minutes after the scene in which they 
were figuring was thus unfolded to their gaze did the 
young couple continue to gaze inquiringly around in 
silence . 

“ It is as I supposed,” then said Arty. ‘‘We are upon 
an island — quite a large one — the low shores of which 
are more or less cut up with salt water lagoons. See 
how sandy the soil is — how stunted the vegetation ! 
Not a house or hut is in sight — no sign of one — not the 
least trace of a human being !” 

“ It must be, then, that we are upon an uninhabited 
island, as you supposed, Arty,” returned the girl. 

“ We must see,” said Arty, briefly. “ Let’s walk 
away toward that sand-knoll yonder — the highest 
ground in sight.” 

Reaching the knoll in question, the couple bestowed 
another long glance of inquiry around them. The 
interior of the island was a vast, sandy plain, dotted 
here and there with dwarfish trees, and containing many 
sunken pools and inlets of salt water. No trace of habi- 
tation was yet visible. 

“ It’s a larger island than I supposed,” said Arty, with 
an additional thrill of anxiety. “ As many miles as we 
can see to the eastward, I do not see any end to it. The 
first thing,” he added, moistening his lips with his 
tongue, “ is for us to find some fresh water and some- 
thing to eat.” 

The girl sighed profoundly. 

“ I have my doubts about finding either food or drink,” 
she murmured. 

The couple wandered on and on under the hot 
African sun, which had now commenced pouring its 


i ?8 


The Young Castaways. 


bright rays upon them. Many were the pools of water 
they sought and tasted, only to find them wholly salt or 
too brackish for use. Not the least trace of a spring or 
river was discovered. A couple of hours thus passed 
seemed an age to the young couple. 

“ I see now to what old king Medlar made allusion !” 
exclaimed Arty, bitterly, as he threw himself under a 
clump of bushes for protection from the rays of the sun. 
“ The name of that old king is Death .” 

Elgie paled with the realization of the truth. 

“ Yes, that is what Medlar meant,” she said. “ Not a 
soul is near us — not even a trace of human beings. 

For a long time they remained motionless in their 
inadequate shelter, a prey to the most distressing 
thoughts and sensations. 

“ We will not die without an effort, Elgie,” said Arty 
at last, arising to his feet. “ If we find nothing to eat 
or drink here, we must push on to some other place.” 

The slow and toilsome march now entered upon was 
prosecuted for hours without other result than finding a 
few swallows of water in the hollow of a rock. As to 
fruits or berries — anything whatever to eat — not the 
least sign was offered. 

“ We must strike out for the shore to the south of us/’ 
said Arty, huskily. “ The ‘ old king' would find us here 
before this time to-morrow. Perhaps we can find a 
dead fish or bird on the coast — something cast up by the 
sea for our benefit.” 

Still more slowly than before, the exhausted couple 
dragged their weary footsteps in the direction suggested 
by Arty. It was a long and almost despairing struggle, 
and when they at last reached the white beach, they 
found it as parched and destitute as any spot they had 
previously visited. 


The Young Couple in Slavery . 


179 


“ We must die now !” cried Elgie, in blank despair, as 
she sank upon the desolate shore. 

“ Perhaps not,” returned Arty, assuming the sem- 
blance of hope. “ There is another island, you see, to 
the southeast of us, and only a few miles from us. If 
we could find a boat hereabouts — ” 

Elgie interrupted him with a murmur of despair. 

“ How could there be a boat here when there are no 
inhabitants?” she asked. 

“ One may have drifted here from some ship, or been left 
here by some hunter or runaway sailor,” returned Arty. 
" At any rate, I think I see a boat beyond those rocks 
yonder, and that is why I spoke as I did, Elgie.” 

“ Oh, you see a boat, Arty ?” 

“ I am almost sure that I do. Remain quiet a few 
moments, and I will see what it is.” 

The boy walked along the beach with renewed anima- 
tion, and soon returned smiling. 

“ It is a boat,” he announced, joyfully. “ One of those 
African canoes of which Captain Strong was telling us. 
I saw by throwing some sticks into the water that the 
current sets directly toward the southeast, and conse- 
quently almost in a line toward that island. There is 
a paddle in the canoe, and if you are willing to venture 
with me, Elgie — ” 

“ Let’s start immediately, Arty,” proposed Elgie, 
quickly. “We have only death to look forward to here. 
It’s our only chance !” 

The couple were soon afloat. The canoe took nearly 
the direction expected, and Arty aided its progress with 
his paddle. Very slowly, indeed, but with constant 
motion, it neared the second and inner island, and in 
due course the couple perceived several black figures in 
commotion upon one of the low bluffs in the distance. 


i8o 


The Young Castaways. 


“ There are inhabitants there,” cried Elgie. 66 And 
they see us.” 

“ Yes,” assented Arty. “ And they seem to be 
launching a canoe. Perhaps they are coming to meet 
us.” 

This was the last coherent remark made by Arty 
Seaborn for months. Long ere the natives he had seen 
had reached his side, he was delirious with an African 
fever. 

When he again became conscious of his surroundings, 
he found himself in a long and narrow hut, with an 
earthern floor. He was lying on a rude cot of straw, 
with his head near a hole in the wall answering to a 
window. Beside him sat Elgie, looking so pale and thin 
and altered that his first sensation was one of wonder- 
ing terror. 

“ Why, where are we, Elgie ?” he cried, starting up 
wildly. “ What has happened ?” 

The girl could not immediately reply. Only jo} r ous 
sobs burst from her as she threw her arms around 
Arty’s neck, and clung to him convulsively. 

“ Oh, you know me at last !” she finally articulated. 

“ Know you ?” repeated Arty, wonderingly. “ What 
do you mean ?” 

“We have both been very ill, Arty — you the sickest 
of the two. How long do you suppose we have been 
in this cabin ? More than four months since that awful 
night when Medlar put us upon an uninhabited island to 
die !” 

Arty was speechless with amazement for a full min- 
ute. 

“ And we have been so sick as that ?” he then mur- 
mured. 

“ Yes, and from all I can comprehend of the language 
of these people, it’s a wonder that we did not die ! It 


The Young Couple in Slavery. 


i Si 


has been about two weeks since I became conscious of 
my whereabouts !” 

At the gesture made by the girl, Arty sent a glance 
around him. He saw that several negro women of dif- 
ferent ages were present, and regarding him with a 
joyous surprise. 

“ Who are they ?” he asked. 

“They are the wives of king Jeeba, the principal 
chief of this island,” replied Elgie. “ The subjects of 
Jeeba are not more than two hundred in number. Jeeba 
and all the rest regard us as strange idols, and I have 
learned enough of their gibberish to know that they 
mean to keep us here always. We have been watched 
every day and night since our arrival. They seem to 
have been kind to us in their way, however, and I am 
sure their old women must have doctored us with a 
great deal of skill to bring us through those dreadful 
fevers !” 

The strangeness of these revelations to Arty can be 
imagined. The four months preceding that moment 
were all a blank to him. 

“ Have you seen anything of a ship since you recov- 
ered ?” asked the boy, as he looked through the opening 
far out upon the blue waters. 

“ Not the least sign of one. It seems that we are in 
the midst of a low archipelago of islands which are gen- 
erally avoided on account of shoals and currents. ” 

“ But don't white people ever come here — at least the 
slave-traders ?” 

“ As near as I can understand these people,” returned 
the girl, “ there has not been a white man here in sev- 
eral years.” 

“ And in what light do they regard us ?” 

“As slaves, Arty. You see that they have already 
set me to work,” and she held up to view a rude sort of 


1 82 


The Young Castaways. 


knitting with which she was busy. “ And Jeeba has 
for some days been delighted with the improvement in 
your condition, declaring that you shall be his chief 
personal attendant, even as I am already the slave of 
his principal queen.” 

The slaves of a pretty negro despot and barbarian ! 
What more was wanted to fill the soul of Arty Seaborn 
with inexpressible horror ? 


» 

CHAPTER XXI. 

IDA RUNNEL. 

It was five years later than the events recorded in the 
preceding pages. 

The scene was one of those' far-away and little- 
heard of islands which stand as sentries upon the bound- 
aries of the New World. 

It was, in fact, the very island off which Christopher 
Columbus found himself on the morning of the 12th of 
October, 1492. 

It is generally called Wattling’s Island. 

It is only a few miles in extent, and contains about 
five hundred inhabitants, who constitute a simple and 
inoffensive people, living rather upon the outskirts of 
the world than in it, taking little part in the stirring 
events of the age, ignoring and ignored — as solitary a 
people, in a word, as can be found outside of the great 
deserts of the Poles and those of Sahara and Siberia. 

And yet in this rustic world thero are still marvelous 
charms and beauties, as upon that ever memorable 


Ida Runnel \ 


18 3 


morning when the eyes of the great and illustrious 
father of American navigation first beheld it. 

There is no actual harbor, to be sure, a port for all 
seasons and winds — only anchorages, where ships can 
remain for a few hours in pleasant weather. But there 
are, none the less, plenty of creeks and coves all along 
the shores, where, when the waters are calm, little skiffs 
can be safely and conveniently launched, and where 
one may while away an hour as charmingly as if upon 
the bosom of some small lake in the interior of the 
country. 

The aspect of the island was doubtless far different in 
the days of Columbus. It is even believed that a goodly 
portion of it, as he saw it, has since been swallowed up 
by the ocean, which often beats upon it with tremendous 
fury. 

Be this as it may, there is still a good anchorage off 
the southern extremity of the island, and as fair a land- 
scape all along the two shores to the northward as any 
one would ever care to look upon. 

Nestled amid the verdure crowning one of the loveliest 
slopes in this quarter of the island, was a large and roomy 
cottage, only a story in height, in which the rude and 
simple thatch-work of the tropics had been graciously 
blended with the more pretentious architecture of the 
north. 

This cottage was the most elegant and complete 
edifice ever seen in the island. 

To begin with the roadstead itself, there was none 
other like it. The water was so clear that the silvery 
sands at its bottom could be plainly seen, and yet until 
within a few rods of the beach, they were deep enough 
to float large vessels. The encircling reefs which debar 
approach to long stretches of the shore were here entirely 
uninterrupted. 


184 


The Young Castaways . 


And then the wide lawn which sloped so gently down 
to the sea from the cottage, was a marvel in its way — 
clean, vigorous, eternally fresh, and just enough shaded 
with trees and flowering shrubs to be retired and 
private, at the same time that the broad open spaces 
allowed the sunshine and free air their gayest course 
throughout the whole domain. 

A glorious summer day was drawing to a close, and 
the whole ocean to the south and west of this island 
manor was being gloriously tinged with a thousand 
varying hues by nature's great pencil, when a young 
girl of the rarest loveliness emerged from the wide por- 
tal of the cottage we have designated, and sauntered 
thoughtfully down a shaded path leading nearly 
directly to the edge of the water. 

The age of this fair being could not have exceeded 
seventeen years, but her countenance displayed lines of 
thought and feeling which are seldom seen upon the 
features of girls of her age. There was in her very walk 
something suggestive of loneliness and unrest, as if her. 
whole being was instinct with the solitude around her 

A certain shadow of desolation seemed to rest upon 
her. 

“ Another night,” she murmured, with a deep sigh, as 
she sank upon the rustic seat in a little dell not far from 
the water’s edge. “ And so the days come and go in 
unvarying monotony. No society, no friends, nobody to 
love, none to care for me ! And this is existence ! Is 
it for this that I was created ? Oh, why was I born ?” 

The sweet voice rang out upon the evening air like a 
wail. 

4 ‘ And yet there is, as it seems to me, a world beyond 
the seas in which I could be happy,” she continued, more 
and more regretfully. “ Will papa ever take me to that 
world as he has promised ? Why is he ever away from me ? 


Ida RunneL 


185 


Why does he not keep me with him as other fathers do ? 
And what is the great mystery of my life that he is so 
long keeping from me ?” 

“ Are you there, Miss Ida ?” suddenly called a voice 
from a clump of radiant shrubs a few rods further up 
the slope. 

“ Yes, Althie,” answered the girl, with a sigh. “ It is 
my hour, you know,” and she waved a fair, jewelled 
hand towards the radiance glorifying the heavens. 
“ Another day is dying, and what can I do but mourn, 
as usual, that it has brought me no happiness.” 

“ Still as sad as ever, I see,” murmured the woman 
addressed as Althie, as she advanced into view and drew 
near the girl. “ Is there no cure for your melancholy ?” 

“ Only one, Althie — death !” 

Althie shuddered at the quiet vehemence with which 
this brief response was uttered. 

“ You cannot mean what you say, Miss Ida,” she said, 
while her features worked uneasily. 

“ Yes, I mean it, Althie. I wish that I were dead !” 

Seating herself upon the grassy sward near the girl, 
Althie scanned the fair features before her still more 
earnestly. 

“ Death comes only too soon to all of us,” she said, 
beating the ground nervously with her foot. “ And that 
a mere child like you should wish to have done with the 
world is simply a madness.” 

“ You think so ? Then we need not discuss the mat- 
ter, Althie. Let us talk of the dull realities of our lot. 
Have you the least idea when my father will deign to 
look in upon us for a few minutes again ?” 

“ I suppose there is no certainty in the premises,” said 
Althie, “ but I expect him at any moment. It has been 
nearly a year since he was here.” 

“ And he stayed a whole day with us — coming from 


The Young Castaways . 


1 86 


Heaven knows where, and going Heaven knows whither. 
He is a model of a father, isn’t he, Althie ?” 

Before making any reply to this bitter question, Althie 
once more brought a scrutinizing gaze to bear upon the 
girl’s features. This scrutiny was now furtive, however, 
and not without a trace of alarm in it. 

“ It is for fathers to come and go as they please, Miss 
Ida, I suppose,” she soon said. “ As to Mr. Runnel, he 
has been a good father to you, it seems to me — has given 
you a beautiful home, with every comfort and luxury, 
and has even supplied you, at different times, with the 
best of instructors in every branch of knowledge and in 
every accomplishment — ” 

The words were suddenly interrupted at this point, 
and then Althie uttered wild screams of terror, spring- 
ing to her feet and clasping her hand to one of her bare 
arms : 

“ Oh, I am bitten !” she panted. 

“ Bitten ? By what, Althie ?” cried Miss Ida, as she 
also hastily arose. 

“ By one of those poisonous vipers Marcos saw about 
the place,” cried Althie. “ Yes, there it goes now !” 

Her screams rang out again, more wildly than ever. 

The girl’s eyes followed the outstretched hand of 
Althie just in time to see a serpent, small but hideous, 
hurrying into the adjacent bushes and vanishing in the 
darkness. 

“ Are you sure he bit you ?” asked Ida. 

“ Sure ? He glided from this overhanging bush direct- 
ly upon my arm, biting me the instant he touched me !” 

“ Then help must be had instantly !” cried Ida* 
u Where are Marcos and Matty ?” 

At the wild cries which now came from the girl as 
well as from Althie, a middle-aged negro couple, hus- 


Ida Runnel. 


187 


band and wife, the servants of the household, came hur- 
rying to the scene of alarm. 

They were both nearly paralyzed with terror for a few 
moments, on learning what had happened. 

“ Only whiskey can cure one of those bites/’ then said 
Marcos, “ and that not always. The last one bitten — old 
Mrs. Sawyer — died within half an hour afterwards !” 

The observation was as natural as thoughtless, but it 
at once plunged Althie into a state of the wildest despair. 

“I shall die, too!” she cried. “Quick, Marcos! run 
for some whiskey — to my closet !” 

Marcos made as quick a flight to the house and back 
as he could, but when he returned Althie was lying at 
full length upon the sward, in a state of prostration 
approaching unconsciousness. 

A drink of whiskey revived her a little, and with the 
assistance of Matty and Ida she arose to a sitting pos- 
ture, looking around upon them, in the light of a lantern 
Marcos had brought from the dwelling. 

“ Oh, I know that I am going to die !” she panted. 

“ Nonsense,” returned Ida. “ Drink more of the whis- 
key. It was thoughtless of Marcos to scare you so.” 

“ He uttered the truth, Miss Ida. I am going to die, 
and the reason is — I am such a wicked woman ! I 
deserve to die, Miss Ida, and I shall !” 

“ Hush ! do not talk in this cruel manner !” enjoined 
Ida. “ Remember how kind you have been to me all these 
years, the only mother I have ever known — ” 

Althie interrupted the remark with wild moans, rock- 
ing herself to and fro. “ Oh, do not talk in that way,” 
she exclaimed, wringing her hands. “ I have been a 
wicked and cruel woman all these years, Miss Ida — your 
jailer ! But there is yet time before I die to undo a 
portion of my wrong-doing. Mr. Runnel is not your 
father—” 


1 88 


The Young Castaways . 


The girl put her hand softly over the mouth of the 
excited woman, and said in the most soothing of voices: 

“ There ! there ! Do not talk in that way any more, 
Althie !” 

“ But I must speak,” burst forth the suffering woman, 
passionately. “ My mind is not wandering as you sup- 
pose, although it may soon do so. Hear and mark well 
my last words to you. Mr. Runnel is not your father, 
nor is he a great merchant, as he and I have both 
declared to you so often. He is the Runnel of whom 
you were speaking lately with so much horror — the 
notorious slave-trader/* 

At this clear and intelligent statement, every particle 
of blood seemed to recede from the features of Ida 
Runnel. 

“Not my father!” she cried. “How do you know 
that, Althie ?” 

“ Because I have known Mr. Runnel ever since he was 
a boy. He and I went to the same school, and he has 
always maintained a constant acquaintance with me. 
But he is not your father, I say. He has never been 
married.” 

The shock this simple exposition of facts gave the 
girl brought a rosy hue back to her features. 

“ Are you sure there is no mistake, Althie ?” she 
demanded. “ Is — is that notorious slaver captain the 
same man who comes here in the character of my 
father ?” 

“ The very same !” 

“ Then who am I, Althie ?” 

“I — I will tell you !” 

The sufferer sank back again, so weak, so utterly 
prostrated that she could not speak or move hand or 
foot. 

“ She's really going to die !” whispered Marcos, 


“ Loves Young Dream." 189 


scared and trembling. “ I’ve seen all this before. She 
acts just as Mrs. Sawyer did. Perhaps this will help 
her a little !” 

He applied his bottle freely to Altliie's lips, but she 
did not come out of the comatose state into which she 
had fallen. Probably fear and remorse had a great 
deal to do with the virulence with which the poison of 
the reptile manifested itself in her system. Be that as 
it may, she never spoke intelligently again. Twice only 
she seemed to be conscious that she was leaving a great 
secret uncommunicated, and it was pitiful on both 
occasions to see with what desperate energy she tried 
to break through the destroying fetters which had 
settled upon her. 

Gradually her moans became fewer and weaker, and 
at last they ceased altogether. Not half an hour inter- 
vened between the moment of her being bitten and that 
of her death. 

“ Poor thing !” murmured Ida Runnel, as she arose 
and turned away. “ I will remember only her good 
qualities, and banish far from me the recollection of all 
that she has done amiss. Take charge of everything, 
Matty — you and Marcos. Good-night to you both/’ 

And with this the wild-eyed girl glided nearer to the 
water, upon which the dark veil of night had now fully 
settled. 


4. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

“ love’s young dream.” 

The burial of Althie took place upon the afternoon 
succeeding her death. Ida Runnel did not disdain to 
figure as chief mourner, notwithstanding the revelations 


The Young Castaways. 


190 


which had been made to her of the dead woman’s life- 
long falsehood and duplicity. 

“ She was paid to lie,” said the girl to herself, with 
her usual straightforward bitterness, “and the man 
who calls himself my father paid her. Be the guilt 
to him and not to her. She had her living to make, 
and many is the remorseful kindness for which I am 
indebted to her, as I can now see in looking back in my 
memory. Peace to her ashes !” 

That this was not a bad view of the case for a young 
head of seventeen years must be very generally con- 
ceded. 

The funeral was over, and Ida Runnel turned away 
from the formal faces and phrases in attendance, and 
returned quietly to her cottage without so much as 
betraying by a look the dark unrest which was now 
brooding more heavily than ever upon her spirits. To 
whom could she speak of her inborn desolation ? To 
whom could she unseal the bitter fountain of her soul ? 
She was wise enough to “ suffer and be strong.*’ 

Wise enough — oh, wise enough ! — to look beyond all 
the little nothingness of the earth’s fair decay and 
shameful glory, and send her thoughts upon wings of 
light to the innermost holies of the great temple. 

The funeral was over and Ida Runnel was more alone 
than ever, more a mystery to herself and others, more 
a child of solitude and unrest, and yet more an angel of 
sweetness and purity amid her life’s giant shadows. A 
day or two she missed Althie from the constant watch 
and ward of many long years, and for a few hours she 
half fancied that something was missing from her life, 
but the second sober sentiment of her soul assured her 
that there had been no essential connection between 
her own life and that which had so suddenly gone out 
in darkness. 


“ Loves Young Dream” 191 


The week succeeding Althie's death was passed by Ida 
Runnel in a quiet apathy, which filled the souls of her 
devoted servants, Marcos and Matty, with a keen sense 
of alarm. She came and went like a shadow, saying 
little, eating little, seldom indulging in a snatch of song 
or in a strain of music, and scarcely pausing to pluck a 
flower from her pathway. As for books, she never 
looked into one. What was a book to her ? to her who 
was feeling the vast revelations of her own soul ? 

But at length there came an hour which roused that 
lone spirit from its lethargy of desolation — the initial 
hour of a West- Indian tempest. 

In the wild puffs of wind, as in the weird calms, in 
the hollow murmurs of the waves as in their changing 
hues, in the hurried flight of sea birds seeking their 
coverts, in the clouds which sped in skurrying masses 
across the face of the heavens, in the hush and quiet of 
the whole face of nature, it was easy for Ida Runnel 
to divine that a storm of unusual power was brewing. 

And in the sibyl-like illuminations which sped over 
the girl's face, as she scanned the portents unrolled 
before her, could have been read how deeply and 
strangely and grandly the strong passions of her soul 
went out in unison with those signs of nature's impend- 
ing battle. 

With her long hair floating like a glorious mantle 
around her pearly neck and shoulders, with movements 
as light and graceful as those of the sunniest warblers 
in the wilderness of flowers and sweets she was travers- 
ing, with thrills of the grander emotions writing them- 
selves in living light upon her gloriously beautiful fea- 
tures, she seemed the Goddess of the creations around 
her. 

“ The night will be fearful, Miss Runnel," said Mar- 
cos, meeting her upon the shore and inclining himself 


192 


The Young Castaways. 


with the deepest respect. “ The tempest will even 
burst upon us within a few minutes. Had you not bet- 
ter remain within doors ?” 

“ Good Marcos !” returned Ida, as she halted a moment 
and regarded her faithful servant with the kindliest 
gaze, “ I know that you think only of my comfort and 
safety. But I must have my little stroll by myself, as 
usual. It seems to me that I am in danger of suffoca- 
tion, M and she passed a jewelled hand swiftly over her 
throat. “ I must have the fresh air !” 

“ Then let Matty and I come too, Miss Ida ! Let us 
be near you !” 

The girl smiled indulgently, as she said : 

“ I have no objections to that, I am sure, Marcos. 
You and Matty know how to be near me without intrud- 
ing. Walk in the same direction that I do, if you will. 
But one question first, Marcos. Have you any idea as 
to the time when my — when he — Mr. Runnel — when he 
will be here again ?” 

“ Not the least idea, Miss Ida !” 

“ One question more, Marcos. Are you aware of the 
great secret — of my birth, parentage, identity, real 
name, or history ?” 

“ Only in so far as we have seen, Miss Ida. Only so 
far as we heard from Althie a few moments before her 
death !” 

“ Then Mr. Runnel has told you nothing ?” 

“ Not the least word, Miss Ida. He found us in 
South Carolina, a free couple, when you were a little 
girl so high,” and he raised his hand to about the height 
of a child of two years, “ and brought us here to assist 
Althie in taking care of you, and here we have been 
from that day to this.” 

“ Do you know who Mr. Runnel really is?” 

“ Only that he says he is your father, and that his 


“ Love s Young Dream. 


193 


name is Runnel/ was the reply. “ There are things he 
has told us, but we know nothing as to their truth or — " 

He suddenly checked himself. 

“ Their truth or falsehood, you were about to say, 
Marcos." 

“Yes, Miss Ida — pardon the freedom." 

“ Mr. Runnel pays you liberally, does he not T 9 

“ About the usual wages." 

u And how do you like him ?" 

“ Pardon me, Miss Ida. I have seen very little -of 
him." 

“'And that little ?” 

“ I — I would rather not say," stammered Marcos. 

“And why so ?" 

“ Because — because he may be your father, after 
all." 

“ Well, well, Marcos," commented Ida, after a brief 
pause/ “ I am not pressing you for your opinions. I am 
merely — looking around." 

She moved lightly away as she spoke, and was seen 
a couple of minutes thereafter upon one of the highest 
rocks upon the shore, looking far out upon the waters. 
Marcos and Mattie had scarcely taken a good view of 
her when the tempest burst over the island. 

In the height of the wild scene that succeeded, Ida 
was startled by hearing a cry of distress from the beach 
at the foot of the cliff upon which she had taken shelter, 
and was prompt to recognize the nature of that cry. 

“ It is some unfortunate sailor," she said to herself, 
as she started to her feet, all aglow with sympathy. 
“ I must see who he is." 

Descending by a steep and narrow path to the beach, 
she hastened in the direction from which the sound had 
come, and was promptly guided to its source by its 
repetitions, 


194 


The Young Castaways . 


The person in distress lay unconscious upon the 
sands, whither he had been violently hurled by the 
earlier gusts of the tempest. A call from the girl 
brought Marcos and Matty to the spot 

“ Take him up to the house,” enjoined Ida. “ Be as 
careful of him as possible.” 

The transit was soon made. 

Once in the spacious living-room of the cottage, the 
doors were all carefully secured, and the patient was 
laid upon a large and easy lounge that occupied one 
corner of the apartment. 

He seemed at first glance a mere youth, so fair was 
his complexion, so boy- like the curls that covered his 
beautifully shaped head in profusion, so delicately cut 
his every feature. But a closer view of the finely- 
formed and compact figure, and especially of the strong 
and hardy lines of his classical face, would have told 
the observer that only years and grave responsibilities 
could have given him such a striking and commanding 
appearance. 

He was, in fact, not far from twenty years of age, 
tall and stalwart, evidently as distinguished for agility 
as for strength, and having that air of culture and refine- 
ment which instantly stamps the possessor as a gentle- 
man. 

“ He is evidently an officer of the navy,” observed 
Ida. “ But how has he come here, in that case, and 
what has become of his vessel ?” 

While answering these questions, she busied herself 
deftly with the young stranger’s restoration. 

“ There was no vessel in sight. Miss Runnel,” re- 
marked Marcos — “no sign of any, at the moment of 
the tempest’s beginning. He can have come in no 
vessel.” 

“ Then it’s very strange, is it not ?” 


“ Loves Young Dream . 


195 


“ Very, indeed ! But he will soon be able to speak 
for himself. See ! he is coming to himself.” 

Within five minutes from that moment the young 
stranger was sitting up in the midst of his rescuers, 
and looking around upon them with a countenance as 
expressive of gratitude as of satisfaction. 

“ I am not dead, then, after all !” he exclaimed in a 
full and cheery voice, as his bright eyes rested fixedly 
upon the countenance of Miss Runnel. “ The first im- 
pression to that effect was natural enough, however. I 
took you for an angel.” 

The compliment, and the graceful spirit with which 
it was uttered, caused Ida to blush to her temples. 

Marcos and Matty exchanged glances full of signifi- 
cance. 

“ We have a great deal to do, old man,” said the 
latter, arising, “ and the sooner we are about it the 
better.” 

They left the apartment together, pretending not to 
hear the faltering voice with which Ida suggested that 
at least one of them should remain to perform any 
office the young stranger might require at their hands. 

“ At last !” breathed Marcos to his wife, as they both 
reached their especial domain, the rambling little 
kitchen — “ at last Miss Ida has a lover !” 

“And a noble young gentleman he is,” returned 
Matty. “ If ever there was a case of love at first sight, 
here it is.” 

The first few moments that followed the withdrawal 
of the couple were moments of silence to those behind 
them. Ida had not recovered from the confusion into 
which the remark of the guest had thrown her, and he 
was still scanning her face with much of the wondering 
admiration with which a saint regards the emblem of 
his faith. 


196 


The Young Castaways . 


“ It is little they can do for me,” said the young 
stranger, still smiling, as he nodded his head in the 
direction taken by Marcos and Matty. “ I am too 
seriously wounded.” 

“ Wounded ?” echoed Ida, starting to her feet 
excitedly. “ How ? Where ?” 

The stranger uttered a laugh that was like the rippling 
of a pellucid torrent. 

“ Fortunately I have escaped from the sea with a few 
cuts and bruises, more or less severe/’ said the stranger ; 
“ but why is it that your gaze moves me to the depths 
of my soul ? Who are you ? How came you in this 
out-of-the-way corner of the world? What is your 
name and history ?” 

An answering smile illuminated Ida’s features. 

“ Those are the very questions I have been asking 
myself continually for some days and weeks past !” 

“ What ! a mystery !” cried the stranger. “ You do 
not know who you are ?” 

“ No more than I know, sir, who you are !” 

“ Bravo ! the cut direct !” continued the stranger, 
from whose still pallid countenance every trace of pain 
had vanished as if by enchantment. “ Excuse me for 
not having mentioned my identity sooner. I am Lieu- 
tenant Walter Trumbull, of the United States Navy !” 

“ I knew it ! I knew it ! I mean that you were a 
naval officer,” murmured Ida, with the happiest anima- 
tion of voice and manner. 

“ And how did you know it ?” 

“ Well, there is a question I cannot answer. Perhaps 
it is because I have not seen many young gentlemen 
except naval officers, and have thus become an adept 
in judging their characteristics. All my days have been 
passed upon the lonely spot where you find me. But 
excuse this wandering from my proper response to your 


“ Loves Yoitng Dream . 


19 7 


introduction of yourself to me. I am known — to the 
few who know me — as Ida Runnel !” 

As the sonorous name glided from those sweet lips, 
Lieutenant Trumbull started to his feet as if propelled 
by some powerful battery. 

“ Excuse me,” he murmured, with a look approaching 
consternation in the troubled depths of his eyes. “ What 
name did you say ?” 

“ Runnel— Ida Runnel!” 

The young stranger recoiled as if an apparition had 
appeared before him. 

“ Is it possible !” he exclaimed, with a strange 
quavering of voice. “ The name is by no means a 
common one. I have known only one other person who 
bears it — ” 

“ It is the same with me, sir !” 

“ And that other person of the name is — is — how shall 
I say it ? — the notorious slave-trader — ” 

“Yes, and that notorious slave-trader is the only 
other Runnel that I know,” said Ida, with her strange 
but charming frankness, “ and that notorious slave- 
trader is the owner of this house, the lord and master of 
this estate, my reputed father — ” 

“Your father?” gasped Lieut. Trumbull, as he 
recoiled to the door, where he stood staring at the girl, 
while a pallor like that of a corpse overspread his face. 
“ His daughter ? H is daughter ? Good Heavens !” 

He appeared about to fall senseless to the floor. 

Quiet as a spirit Ida glided a few steps nearer him, 
with stately mein, while she cried : 

“ Am I, then, so very hideous and horrible ?” 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

A CROWNING JOY. 

A period of five years had passed in the histories of 
our young adventurers, Arty and Elgie, since we last 
looked upon them. 

They were still where we left them — the slaves of a 
petty negro despot. 

They were greatly changed, however — changed as 
only a young couple can be between the ages of 
twelve and seventeen — changed, in a word, from mere 
children to a young lady and gentleman. 

Their lot, to be sure, had not been favorable to their 
development, either mental or physical, and under 
some circumstances could have hardly failed to*exercise 
a most depressing effect upon them. 

But Arty and Elgie never for a moment ceased to be 
hopeful — never for a moment accepted their misfortunes 
as anything worse than a temporary affliction — and 
never ceased to look forward with bright anticipations 
to the hour of their restoration to freedom. 

And their trials having been met in this spirit, they 
had in no wise been crushed by them. The one great 
compensation that each had, in the presence of the 
other, deprived the “ slings and arrows of outrageous 
fortune ” of their deadliest effects. In a word, they had 
not merely lived, but had splendidly developed during 
[198] 


A Crowning Joy. 


199 


these live years of sorrow — Arty into as noble a young 
man as the sun ever shone upon, and Elgie into a verit- 
able incarnation of feminine loveliness. 

The island of King Jeeba was still their wide prison, 
and the house of that ignoble chieftain the scene of their 
toils and humiliations. Few captives in like circum- 
stances would probably have fared as well as they did. 
They had early discovered — in the severe school of 
training in which their lot had been cast — that no one 
is ever excused from making the most of his resources 
and surroundings, and had accepted their inevitable 
servitude with a grace and patience that robbed it of 
half its horrors. 

Thus, Arty had made himself so useful to King Jeeba 
that that monarch regarded him in much the same 
light as he did the sun — as a necessary luminary for the 
transactions of all the affairs of his somewhat restricted 
kingdom. And Elgie had made herself equally agree- 
able and necessary to the leading queen of the house- 
hold, so that upon all occasions, whether of business or 
pleasure, the young couple were sure to be found in 
attendance upon their royal masters. 

Three times during these five years had the captives 
sought to escape, and once they had even penetrated to 
the main land, after a wandering and perilous absence 
of a week’s duration, but they had eventually fallen 
into the hands of a petty tyrant who stood in awe of 
Jeeba, and had been in due course delivered up to that 
monarch. 

To do Jeeba justice, we must add that he was so glad 
to have the young couple back that he did not punish 
them, unless terrific threats for the future can be 
regarded as a punishment. 

Upon one of the other occasions of flight, the young 
couple had drifted directly upon a mud shoal several 


200 


The Young Castaways. 


miles in extent, at ebb tide, and been discovered before 
they could get afloat again. 

As to their third attempt at escape, they had nearly 
reached an English trade-schooner which happened 
to be becalmed off the dangerous and unfrequented 
coast, and could have even escaped if they had been 
properly seconded by those aboard the schooner, but it 
appeared afterwards that the skipper of the craft could 
not believe in the reality of the white fugitives, and 
acted upon his suspicions of some treachery until it was 
too late to make himself useful in the premises, the 
fugitives having been overtaken and secured by one of 
Jeeba’s royal canoes. 

If all these attempts had failed, however, they had 
none the less served to keep alive in the souls of the 
young couple the possibility of their eventual restora- 
tion to freedom. 

“ I shall be stronger and wiser the next time,” Arty 
had declared, after a long discussion of the third failure. 
“And events may happen in the midst of the royal 
household during the next few months that will open 
the way to our liberation. For instance, if Jeeba 
should die in one of his frequent carousals, his young 
son would succeed him, and Noony, I am sure, would 
give us our freedom on the instant.” 

As if to show how easy it is to be mistaken in one’s 
calculations, Jeeba died not long after this conversation, 
and his son Noony duly succeeded him ; but from that 
hour the situation of the young couple became more 
intolerable than before, and the difficulties in the way 
of their escape greater than ever. 

The truth was, with the advent of Noony a new order 
of ideas and purposes had entered into the royal coun- 
cil. Noony was in love with Elgie, and one of his sable 
sisters was equally smitten with Arty. 


A Crowning Joy . 


201 


What more perplexing combination for our young 
hero and heroine could possibly be imagined ? 

The mother of the black prince and princess, who, as 
the first and favorite wife of Jeeba, had been honored 
and powerful, was quite an intriguer and schemer in 
her way, and she had early conceived the idea of 
attaching Arty and Elgie permanently to her fortunes. 
It was fondly believed by her that a cross-alliance of 
the kind suggested would contribute not a little to the 
supremacy of her brood upon the whole coast and the 
surrounding islands, and to this end she had toiled and 
plotted with an ability that did her the greatest credit. 

But naturally there was one or two great stumbling- 
blocks in the way, of which she did not have any clear 
conception. 

In the first place, she did not understand how utterly 
impossible it was that Elgie should ever become the 
wife of Noony, or that Arty should become the husband 
of the princess. The royal mother was not merely 
willing to see her children married to whites, but was 
anxiously coveting the high honor, and she was so con- 
ceited as to believe that our young hero and heroine 
would be equally solicitous of the high alliance she 
was meditating for them. 

In the second place, the royal mother was not aware 
of a still greater stumbling-block in her way — the fact 
that Arty and Elgie had solemnly promised never to 
marry until their origin and relationship were fully 
discovered. Under these conflicting views it was not 
strange that an element of serious discord had been for 
some time rankling in the royal household of Noony, 
at the date to which this chronicle has advanced. 
Noony had even learned — for jealousy is a quick 
teacher — to regard Arty as a rival, and his sister had 
conceived a similar sentiment in regard to Elgie, Thus 


202 


The Young Castaways . 


both of our young friends had become not merely 
objects of affection, but also of jealous discontent and 
suspicion. 

And as it is in the very nature of all situations of this 
kind to tend toward a crisis, it was simply inevitable 
that a critical moment had at length arrived in the his- 
tory of the captives. In a word, Noony had definitely 
proposed to Elgie and been as definitely rejected, 
while a like state of affairs had arisen between the sable 
princess and Arty. 

“We are in for it at last,” said Arty to Elgie, when 
they had discussed the situation. “ Now for chains and 
tortures — perhaps death itself — or now for freedom !” 

Elgie sighed profoundly. 

“I fear the worst,” she said. “ You have no idea of 
Noony’s sullen anger. We shall be watched more 
closely than ever — or shut up closely, and perhaps in 
separate prisons. Whichever way we turn there will 
not be merely one or two pairs of eyes constantly upon 
us, as heretofore, but dozens.” 

“ I comprehend only too well the storm that is prepar- 
ing,” said Arty. “An instant choice is before us — 
escape or death.” 

“ Escape seems utterly impossible,” said Elgie, “ more 
out of our power than ever.” 

“ Still there are one or two new points in our favor,” 
said Arty, sinking his voice to a whisper. “ To begin 
with, there is a sail upon the horizon.” 

“ A sail ?” gasped Elgie, clasping her hands. “ It has 
been two years now since we saw one.” 

“ It is certainly there — nearly due west — that is to 
say, nearly in the direction the wind is blowing and the 
current is now running. I have secured and hidden an 
old sabre and a loaded revolver — the latter for you. 
And finally, I have at command, sunken in a muddy 


A Crowning Joy . 


203 


inlet, the light board skiff I have so long secretly been 
preparing. In a word, I am ready for another and final 
attempt to regain our freedom.” 

“ Too late !” murmured Elgie. “ Here comes our 
jailer.” 

A tall and formidable negro appeared, followed by sev- 
eral minions. His face was unusually stern and lower- 
ing. His arms were loaded with massive chains and 
fetters in readiness for use. His orders were to take 
the couple into the closest custody and confine them in 
separate prisons. Their days of even nominal freedom 
were over. 

Once in the low and dingy stone apartment where 
the preceding conversation had taken place, the new 
comer made known his orders. He arrived a little later 
than intended, having been detained to forge a rivet or 
two, and the shadows of the evening were now begin- 
ning to settle around him. 

One swift glance cast he around him, listening 
intently, and then shook himself as a lion shakes his 
mane at the beginning of battle. 

“‘You come just in time,” he said to the executor of 
Noony’s proposed cruelties, stepping between the new 
comers and the door, which he closed by a prompt 
movement. “ And you have supplied me, I see,” he 
added, with a glance at the chains and fetters, “ just the 
sort of jewelry with which I am anxious to supply you.” 

Out flashed a revolver from his pocket, and with its 
ominous click — so well understood by all present — the 
form of Arty seemed to expand to the proportions of a 
giant. 

“ Not the least word or cry,” he enjoined, continuing 
to speak to the blacks in their own language, “ or you 
die on the instant. There’s more than a ball for every 
one of you !” 


204 


The Young Castaways . 


Even brave men could be pardoned for cowering as 
those negroes cowered at that moment. 

In less than three minutes they w r ere all bound, 
gagged, and ironed, lying like dead men upon the 
earthen floor. 

“ And now well away, Elgie.” 

In another moment they were out of doors, with the 
door locked between them and their prisoners, and fly- 
ing towards the spot where the boat mentioned by Arty 
was concealed — a not far distant beach. 

Fortunately, their movements were not promptly 
witnessed. It was not till they had reached the edge of 
the water that they were discovered, and then the alarm 
was promptly suppressed and limited, Elgie mounting 
guard with the revolver over their discoverers, while 
Arty hastened to bring up his boat from the bed of an 
inlet, drag it ashore and empty it. A pair of oars were 
lashed in it. In a word, all was ready for instant 
departure, and not an instant was lost in taking posses- * 
sion of the craft and in pushing off. 

And not till then was it that the alarm became general 
behind them. 

“ Let them howl T murmured Arty, and he plied his 
oars with desperate vigor. a We are safe from their 
pursuit ! All is now well if we can reach the vessel !” 

The sail he had seen had in the meantime stood in 
nearer to the coast. Scarcely half an hour had passed 
when the young couple perceived a stanch brig, which 
had just tacked, dashing toward them. Three minutes 
later Arty hailed and was answered. 

“ We are saved !” he murmured, as the brig hove-to 
to wait for him. “ And how much that brig looks like 
the old Bunting T 

The boat was soon alongside, when the voice of the 


A Ticklish Position. 


205 


commander, who was on the lookout forward for the 
fugitives, gave them a great thrill of wondering delight. 

“ It is Captain Strong !” was all Arty could say. 

It was even so. It was Captain Strong in person, who 
had the pleasure of welcoming them aboard the brig a 
moment later ! 

Imagine the wild and joyous greetings. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

A TICKLISH POSITION. 

Captain Strong had changed but little — very little, 
indeed — during the five years Arty and Elgie had passed 
in slavery. His hair may have been somewhat grayer, 
and the lines of his countenance more clearly marked, 
but he was the same hearty and genial friend they had 
formerly found him. 

It was easy, therefore, for the young couple to recog- 
nize him. They even knew him by his voice before the 
rays from his lantern had displayed his features. 

But it is doubtful if the good captain would have 
known either Arty or Elgie, if he had passed in broad 
daylight within a yard of them. Arty was no longer the 
slender stripling he had known, nor was Elgie the thin, 
pale girl of his first acquaintance. Both had come up 
nobly toward man’s and woman’s estate, despite all the 
drawbacks of their captivity. 

“Why, don’t you know us, Captain Strong?” was 
Arty’s half-reproachful inquiry, as he drew himself to 
his fullest height in front of the old navigator as soon as 
he had reached the deck of the brig. 


206 


The Young Castaways . 


The voice and the smile was enough for Captain 
Strong's memory. 

“ Why, if it isn’t Arty Seaborn !” he shouted, in a 
voice of amazement, that rang from one end of the brig 
to the other. 

“Yes, captain, and so happy to see you again. And 
here’s Elgie — ” 

The start the captain gave at sight of the queenly 
beauty Elgie had now become, interrupted the current 
of our hero’s observations. 

“ What ! this our little Elgie ?” roared Capt. Strong, in 
an ecstasy of delight, as he looked from one to the other. 

“ As you must know, Captain Strong, if you take a good 
look at me,” said Elgie, as she surrendered her delicate 
hands to the gigantic paws that were just then extended 
to seize them. “ Oh, I am so, so glad to see you again !” 

“ Well, if this isn’t the strangest thing in the world — 
to see you both again, so bright- looking and hearty, after 
all our unfortunate adventures !” exclaimed the jovial 
commander. 

“ You forget, Captain, there is one stranger thing in 
the world than our preservation, and that is your own, 
for the reason that we were safe in a ship when you last 
saw us, whereas you, the last time we knew anything 
about you, were adrift in an open boat — for we knew 
very well that you and the others were turned adrift, 
although Medlar pretended to us that you had made 
your escape.” 

“ Escape !” cried the captain. “ Why, the infernal vil- 
lain sent us adrift handcuffed and ironed, expecting us 
to go to the bottom in less than five minutes, but a 
change of wind drove us straight to the island of St. 
Vincent, where we were picked up and cared for at an 
early hour of the following morning. It would be a 
long story to tell you what happened next, but you may 


A Ticklish Position . 


207 


be sure that I found friends, and that I made it as hot 
as possible for the mutineers, for I supposed you two to 
be in their hands, you know, and left not a stone 
unturned in the effort to effect your recovery. The 
rascals escaped me, however, and went as far as the 
Bight of Benin, where they got rid of my whole cargo 
at a round figure, and then pushed out together— Med- 
lar and De Soto — for the Sestos river, where they took 
in large cargoes of slaves and sailed for Brazil. They 
were seen by the cruisers, however, and duly over- 
hauled, when they showed such good honest fight that 
nearly every mother’s son of them was killed. I don’t 
know that even one of the doubly-dyed villains survived 
the battle, but I have always had my idea that Medlar 
himself made good his escape, and is still prowling 
around the west coast and making mischief.” 

“ But the Bunting escaped, I see,” said Arty, looking 
around him. 

“ No, she shared the ill-fortune of the pirates,” said 
Capt. Strong, “ a shot having struck her near the water- 
line, and she went down before the least thing could be 
done by the cruisers to save her. The brig you are now 
aboard of is called the Bunting , to be sure, and is as 
much like the other as two peas in a pod ; but she has 
been built since you saw me. You see, therefore, that 
the most of the gang failed to gain anything by their 
wickedness. But what am I thinking about ?” he added 
abruptly, “ to keep you standing here on deck all night 
when there is a good cabin at your service. Walk in ! 
Walk in !” 

The reunited friends were soon in possession of the 
cabin, where Arty and Elgie narrated their adventures, 
while the steward hastened to prepare for them the best 
supper the resources of the brig afforded. 

“ The great loss about the old Bunting observed the 


208 


The Young Castaways. 


commander, as he sat at table and looked after the com- 
fort of his guests, “ was the loss of my life-long collec- 
tion of curiosities from every quarter of the globe/’ 

“ That was indeed a great loss,” said Elgie, “ and one 
I fear you will never be able to make good. How well 
I remember the pleasure Arty and I had in looking 
them over.” 

“ And how well I remember the curiosities themselves 
— especially that life preserving suit in which I cut such 
a figure the night ot the mutiny,” exclaimed Arty. 
“ Elgie and I have talked of these things often, Capt. 
Strong, and of you almost daily, hardly hoping that you 
had escaped, and yet venturing to trust at times that 
Heaven had been with you.” 

“ As to that, my young friend, the mercies of Heaven 
are always with us, however dark our lot may seem to 
us,” said the old navigator, reverently. “ And I must 
say, as I look back upon all the years I have traversed 
that I have had a fair share of the world’s joys and suc- 
cesses. You can hardly say the same thing now, but 
the end is not yet.” 

The first few days that followed this strange turn of 
the wheel of fortune were full of busy gladness to the 
young couple, as will readily be imagined. And dur- 
ing these days the Bunting continued to spread her 
white wings to the breeze, cruising along the coast to 
the southward. 

“ I am going a little further south this time than ever 
before,” said Capt. Strong, as he and the young couple 
were making themselves comfortable under an awning 
upon the deck. “ I may even go as far as the Came- 
roons. There is an old negro king called King Bell in 
that quarter, who is said to have a ravenous tooth for snch 
commodities as the Bunting carries, and to have plenty 
of gold-dust with which to pay for them. Some of our 


A Tieklish Position . 


209 


traders go as far south as Benguela, but those longer 
voyages are apt to have some drawbacks/' 

“ What does your cargo consist of this time, Captain 
Strong ?" asked Elgie. 

“Oh, of the usual stock in trade," replied the com- 
mander — “ of provisions, such as flour, beef, ship -bread, 
pork and hams, of which the European and American 
colonists all along the coast are great consumers. The 
natives, too, are all becoming attached to the white 
man’s dainties, and especially to his New England rum 
and tobacco. Other articles I have are furniture, boots 
and shoes, wooden clocks, and almost every article of 
American manufacture in use among civilized men, 
including powder, guns, large brass pans and cotton 
cloth." 

“ The loss of the old Bunting and her cargo must have 
been a great blow to your hard-earned fortune ?" 
observed Arty. 

“ Well, it was ; but I do not complain," returned the 
commander, with a sigh, as he looked fixedly from one 
of his young friends to the other. “ But I have set all 
to rights in the several voyages I have made since 
those misfortunes, and I may even say that I am better 
off to-day than ever before, especially when I look into 
your bright faces, and thank God that He has again 
brought us together." 

The morning subsequent to this conversation, the 
Bunting came to anchor off a civilized settlement. 

“ Now for some trading," he said to Arty. “ If you 
want to be of some service to me you can." 

Arty was delighted at the chance. 

“ The first measure is to take ashore a list of all the 
things I have for sale," resumed Captain Strong, “ with 
the prices of each article, and the kind of pay required. 
Some traders take only cash, but I have been in the 


210 


The Young Castaways . 


habit of taking* the productions of the country at a 
stipulated price ; for instance : camwood at sixty dol- 
lars a ton, palm-oil at twenty-five to thirty- three cents 
a gallon, and ivory, peanuts, gold dust, and gum at a 
fair valuation. All we shall do to-day is to take ashore 
the list, it is so late, but by morning business will be 
lively.” 

“ But what do you do with the list, sir ?” 

“ Why, we put it up conspicuously in the store of the 
leading merchant of the place, and traders, purchasers, 
and idlers come to see what there is for sale. The 
store becomes for the time the public exchange of that 
settlement. In due time I will go on shore with sam- 
ples, and those who wish to buy anything will flock 
around me. In fact, I take up my residence ashore for 
the few days of the sale, and leave the brig in charge of 
the mate, who sends me the goods as they are called 
for. All this applies, of course, to settlements where 
there is some pretence to civilization.” 

The busy interest of Arty in the proceedings during 
the stay of the brig at this spot can be imagined. The 
call was pecuniarily successful, quite a large portion of 
the cargo being disposed of at good prices. 

“Our next call will be at a different sort of place,” 
observed the captain to Arty, after the brig had 
resumed her course — “ at a native town, and not at a 
civilized settlement, and here we do business upon a 
different basis. On anchoring at a town ruled by a 
native chief, it is necessary to “ dash ” the ruler — that 
is to say, send him a present varying in value from 
twenty dollars to several hundred, according to the 
size of his kingdom. This “ dash ” is merely a rude 
way of paying custom-house duties, and we remunerate 
ourselves, of course, by putting a higher price upon what 
we have to sell than we would otherwise.” 


A Ticklish Position . 


21 1 


“ 1 should think there would be some danger in trust- 
ing yourself among these savages,” observed our hero. 

“ And so there is, in some places, if you do not take 
proper precautions,” returned the commander. “ For 
instance, the schooner Mary Carver , of Salem, com- 
manded by Capt. Farwell of Vassalboro, was anchored 
at Half Berebee, with a cargo worth twelve thousand 
dollars. The captain had too much confidence in the 
treacherous rascals, although he had been warned 
against them, and one day, when he was ashore alone, 
the natives knocked him down and bound him, deliver- 
ing him to the women and children, who tortured him 
for three hours by sticking thorns into his flesh, after 
which the brutes dispatched him. The captain having 
been disposed of, a large party was sent to the schooner 
to surprise and murder the mate and crew, and in this 
project were perfectly successful, not a soul on board 
escaping. The assassins then ran the vessel ashore, 
where she was stripped of everything. A Portuguese 
schooner was taken, and her crew murdered at the same 
place the previous year. There are, in fact, several 
points along the coast which it is unsafe to visit, the 
natives having the boldness to talk of ‘ catching ’ a ves- 
sel just as in other places they talk of catching a buck 
or a rabbit.” 

A couple of days later, the Buntmg came to anchor off 
a native town of the ivory coast, and for a few days did 
a thriving business, thence proceeding to another. 

In due course of trade, the Bunting at length arrived 
at a little place near Cape Coast Castle, where Capt. 
Strong hoped to do a profitable business, he having 
brought to the natives of the place quite a quantity of 
articles for which especial demands had been made dur- 
ing the last previous voyage. The king was duly 
“ dashed,” Capt. Strong himself taking the present 


212 


The Yottng Castaways. 


ashore, and for a few minutes everything passed off as 
pleasantly as expected. Then the boat was sent to the 
brig for a new load of goods, Capt. Strong remaining 
ashore, and upon the return of this boat to the beach it 
was found that the captain had vanished. The natives 
said that he had gone further inland to one of the 
houses of the king, but as the boat and its contents were 
instantly seized, and the crew secured and carried away, 
it became apparent at once to those who were watching 
events from the brig that foul play was in progress. 

A second boat, which went on a cautious trip of 
inquiry shoreward, in charge of the mate, in the edge 
of the evening, did not return as expected, and Arty, 
who had been virtually left in charge of the vessel, 
although the second mate had nominal charge, was at 
once seized with the conviction that everything ashore 
was as wrong as it could be. 

“ This is evidently another Mary Carver affair,” he 
said to Elgie, remembering what Captain Strong had 
told him about that ill-fated vessel. “ Captain Strong is 
evidently in trouble, and perhaps the mate is, also. 
What can we do ?” 

The two boats being away, no further movement of 
that sort was to be thought of. 

“ The only thing we can do is to get our arms in read- 
iness, and remain very watchful where we are,” con- 
tinued Arty, answering his own question. “ If the 
captain is really in trouble there is no telling how soon 
we may have the black fiends buzzing in their canoes 
around us !” 

These previsions were perfectly just, as the result 
proved. It was still early in the evening when a black 
spot appeared upon the surface of the water shorewards, 
proceeding slowly and silently toward the brig. And 
at sight of this ominous movement, Arty comprehended 


More Light About Runnel \ 


213 


at once that the natives were coming to attack the ves- 
sel ! And with Captain Strong and the mate in heaven 
only knew what captivity or peril, the situation of affairs 
for the brig and those aboard of her was decidedly 
ticklish ! 


CHAPTER XXV. 

MORE LIGHT ABOUT RUNNEL. 

There are looks which can never be forgotten — 
supreme revelations of soul to soul — which can no more 
be blotted out of memory than the soul itself can be 
blotted out of existence. 

Such a revelation was that which looked from the 
eyes of Ida Runnel, as she drew her lovely form proudly 
erect, and asked that awfully scornful question : 

“ Am I, then, so very hideous and horrible ?” 

A deadly knife could not have rankled more keenly 
in the flesh of Lieutenant Trumbull than did that ques- 
tion in his spirit. 

How he had outraged her by the looks of horror 
bestowed upon her, and by even the more marked act of 
recoiling before her. What responsibility had she for 
sins of Captain Grebb Runnel, .even upon the grounds 
that she was his daughter ? 

Abashed and self -reproachful, he advanced quickly 
several paces, dropping upon his knees. “ Forgive 
me !” he cried, “forgive me, Miss Runnel! I have 
pained you involuntarily — not with any intentional 
malice. You do not share, of course, the infamy of 
your father — ” 


214 


The Young Castaways. 


“ I said reputed father, Lieutenant Trumbull, and T 
meant to imply that he is not my real father, although 
he has so declared himself during all these years.” 

The joy with which the young officer hailed the cor- 
rection lighted up his whole face. 

“ I did not get that point clearly, in the excitement of 
the moment,” he cried. “ And when you know what 
reason I have to execrate the name of Runnel, you will 
not so much wonder at the foolish emotions into which 
I have allowed myself to be betrayed. Forgive me.” 

“ Perhaps I was needlessly sensitive,” murmured Ida, 
as she sank into the chair she had previously occupied. 
“ But something within me cried out and rebelled 
against the gaze you were bestowing upon me. Some- 
thing within me said that I was not the unclean and 
monstrous thing your attitude implied. What have I 
done, or what am I, that you should abhor me?” 

“ Pardon my folly,” pleaded the lieutenant. “ Let me 
tell you the secret of that emotion — why it is that the 
name of Runnel has power to move me in the way you 
have noticed.” 

Ida could only bow under the weakness of the reac- 
tion that had come upon her. She trembled like a 
leaf. 

“ A few days ago off Charleston,” began the lieuten- 
ant, “ Commodore Paulding, in his flag-ship, the Decatur > 
called me to his cabin and asked me if I would not 
undertake to bring the notorious slave-trader, Captain 
Grebb Runnel, to justice. I replied that I should be 
most happy to undertake the matter if he could indi- 
cate to me the necessary premises of action. 

“ The commodore then proceeded to say that Runnel’s 
Baltimore-built clipper, the Ranger , was lying at the 
moment in Charleston harbor; that Runnel himself 
was ashore most of the time at a sailor’s boarding-house 


More Light About RtcnneL 


215 


kept by a certain Black Ralph ; and that it would be 
easy for me, after disguising myself properly, to en- 
counter Runnel and apply for a berth on his clipper, he 
having just lost his first officer, a certain Mr. Gredin. 

“The project looked perfectly feasible to me, the 
more especially as a letter of recommendation from the 
renowned Mirando, the great slave-hunter residing at 
the Cameroons, of a certain Whiteraven (who had soon 
after been killed in a skirmish on the west coast), had 
fallen into the commodore’s hands, so that all I had to 
do was to present myself to Runnel under the name 
and in the character of the said Whiteraven. 

“ I accordingly entered upon the business at once, 
attracted alike by its dangers and importance, and with- 
in forty-eight hours after the conversation I have so 
briefly summarized, I was figuring as the first officer of 
the clipper in question — the long successful slave-ship 
of Captain Runnel ! 

“ The hour for starting on a new voyage to the west 
coast of Africa for a cargo of slaves being at hand, Capt. 
Runnel unfolded to me his intentions and gave me his 
instructions. He said that he should pass eastward by 
the Bahamas — by the New Providence channel, in fact 
— it being his intention to call at one of the little islands 
of the group to see his daughter, and probably to take 
her to sea with him.” 

“ Ah ! that is why you were so ready to accept me as 
his daughter,” murmured Ida. “And so you sailed in 
due course in the P anger as first officer ?” 

“ I did, and for a couple of days everything went swim- 
mingly enough, Capt. Runnel extending to me his entire 
confidence in all matters appertaining to the voyage. 
But at Nassau, where we called for a portion of the crew, 
there came aboard a sailor who had not only known the 
real Whiteraven well, but had been .present at his death, 


2l6 


The Young Castaways . 


and was consequently in position to see in me at once 
a gigantic imposture and peril.” 

“ What a misfortune for you !” cried Ida, with an 
involuntary shudder. 

“It was, indeed, as you shall hear,” continued the 
young officer. “No sooner had this sailor heard the 
name under which I was figuring, than he began mak- 
ing inquiries, and in less than five minutes thereafter 
he was having a private interview with Captain Runnel. 
My presence was promptly requested in the cabin.” 

“ 4 It seems that the real Whiteraven is dead/ began 
Runnel. 4 Here is a man who saw him killed. You are 
consequently an impostor, and I want to know who you 
are.” 

“ Horrible !” was all the comment Ida could make, so 
fully did she enter into the situation thus portrayed by 
her companion. 

44 Until that moment,” resumed the lieutenant, 44 1 had 
had no complete conception of the violence of human 
passions. Words fail me to describe the frenzy into 
which Runnel was thrown by the discovery. Once fully 
cornered and stripped of my disguise, there were sev- 
eral men on the Ranger who knew me in my real char- 
acter, and from that moment I could not even take 
refuge in silence. I was obliged to avow all — my name, 
my motives, the whole secret of my disastrous mission — 
or rather they were patent upon the very face of the 
situation. The first measure of Runnel was to put me 
in irons between decks, and his second- to study out some 
death for me adequate to my offence against him.” 

Ida was too excited to speak. The lieutenant calmed 
the excitement into which the very recollection of his 
experiences was hurrying him, and resumed : 

44 About twenty-four hours after my detection the 
Ranger came to anchor just before nightfall off one of 


More Light About Runnel \ 


217 


those desolate and uninhabited keys peculiar to these 
waters. I was taken ashore still heavily ironed. A hole 
was dug in the hard, white sand, and into this hole I 
was thrust. The sand was then replaced and packed 
hard around me, and I was thus left buried up to my 
neck in the unyielding substance, with only my head 
above it. Promising me that a cayman would soon eat 
my head off, and that he would come ashore in the morn- 
ing to verify the fact, Runnel returned to the clipper, 
remaining quietly at anchor during the night ! 

“ And, now, how was I saved ? Two sailors swam off 
from the clipper during the night and released me, say- 
ing simply that they would not see a man of my stamp 
perish in that manner, and then swam back again, leav- 
ing me a little collection of rubbish in the form of a raft 
that was not adequate to bear one-half of my weight. 
Upon this raft I drifted and paddled away, making such 
good use of the night that I was many leagues away 
long before Runnel could have discovered my absence !” 

Ida heaved a sigh of relief, but her panting breath 
still showed how deeply she was interested in the lieu- 
tenant’s narration. 

“ In the course of the following afternoon/’ resumed 
Walter Trumbull, “ I encountered a couple of turtle 
hunters, who, in a rude little sloop, undertook to convey 
me to Puerto Plata, their destination. All went on well 
with us until we were abreast of your island, when arose 
this wild tempest, overtaking us before we reached the 
sought-for shelter. The little craft was soon whelmed 
in the sea, and I hardly know how it was that I was 
alive upon reaching the shore.” 

“ You have had a narrow escape from the storm, no 
doubt, as from — as from that terrible enemy,” murmured 
Ida. “ And how strange it is that you should have been 
brought to my presence — to mine !” 


2 I 8 


The Young Castaways. 


“ It is indeed,” returned Walter, with deep feeling. 
“ And now that you have heard my story, can you for- 
give me for having been so foolish — ” 

“ Enough of apologies/’ interrupted Ida, as a faint 
smile came back to her cheeks. “ Supposing me to be 
the daughter of the man who had done you such an 
injury, you could hardly have done otherwise than you 
did. But I assure you, lieutenant,” she hastened to add, 
“ that I am not his daughter ; that I do not partake in 
his acts nor approve of them ; that he can never, never 
be anything to me ; and that at an early day I shall 
vanish from these scenes forever !” 

“ But whither will you go ?” 

“ It matters little where — to any corner of the earth 
where he will not trouble me.” 

A few moments the face of the lieutenant was 
clouded, and then the cheery smile he had formerly 
exhibited came back to it. 

“ I see that you have a story to tell,” he said, “and I 
am anxious to hear it, in return for mine.” 

“ There is no need of many words to tell all that is 
known concerning me,” declared Ida. “ I was brought 
to this spot when a mere child, and three persons were 
left here to take charge of me — the colored couple you 
have seen, and a woman I have never known by any 
other name than ‘ Althie,’ as she would never speak of 
her former history. Althie has been dead only a few days, 
and it is perhaps this event which has given a definite 
point to all my wild aspirations to take my leave of these 
surroundings forever.” 

The smile deepened upon Walter’s face. 

“ It seems that, in coming here, I have been wisely 
guided,” he affirmed, with a rare tenderness in his tones 
for so short an acquaintance. Whether it is that suffer- 
ing has opened my eyes preternaturally, as in the case 


More Light About Runnel. 


219 


of the martyrs of old, I cannot undertake to decide, 
but I see in you, Miss Runnel, the bright counterpart 
of my own spirit. Surely, you are not married ?” 

The query struck Ida as so singularly absurd, that the 
last trace of her late gloom was dispelled in a merry 
peal of laughter. 

“ Married !” she exclaimed. “ Why, whom should I 
marry ?” 

“ Perhaps some chance wayfarer like myself.” 

“ Wayfarers, of your stamp are not common here- 
abouts, Lieutenant Trumbull. Married ? Why, I never 
had a lover !” 

“ Then it is time you did,” returned Walter, laugh- 
ingly. “ I constitute myself one on the spot, with your 
gracious permission, of course.” 

How rapidly the sentiments thus kindled, multiplied 
and ripened. The couple did not separate until a late 
hour of the night, and then not to sleep, but to think of 
each other. 

In a few days, the relation undertaken by Walter 
towards his young hostess, was an established fact. It 
was known throughout the whole island that the mys- 
terious young lady had a lover, and not a few calls were 
made at the island manor with the hope of catching a 
glimpse of him. But Marcos had got the idea that his 
young master, as he already called him, was being 
hunted for his life by some unknown enemy, and very 
few, indeed, were the visitors admitted to the full honors 
of the house. 

“ How strange it is that he does not come,” said Ida, 
one evening, when nearly a week had passed since 
Walter’s arrival, as they sat in a secluded dell in front 
of the mansion, looking off upon the waters. “ He 
told you he should call for his ‘ daughter V ” 


220 


The Young Castaways . 


“ Yes, dear. How does he generally come ? I mean 
in what sort of a craft ?” 

“ In an ordinary little turtling sloop — that is, in a 
craft of that appearance, but she is very fast and sea- 
worthy.' ' 

“ His visits are brief, I suppose ?” 

“ Very — seldom exceeding a night or a day." 

“ It is singular, as you say, what has become of him,'’ 
said Walter, thoughtfully. “ He must have spent 
several days in looking for me, his hatred of me being 
so truly infernal. But this delay in his proposed com- 
ing signifies very little in our favor. I should not be 
surprised to see him walk in at any moment." 

A few moments later, as the lovers sat quietly enjoy- 
ing each other’s society and the beautiful night, a small 
sloop suddenly glided into view in the foreground of 
the scene before them. 

Ida leaped to her feet as if electrified. 

“ It is his sloop," she ejaculated, as a sudden pallor 
mantled her cheeks. “ He is here at last, Walter ! 
And how shall I meet him ?" 


= ♦ ■■ . 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

RUNNEL AND IDA. 

It did not take Ida and Walter long to prepare for 
the anticipated arrival of Runnel. 

“ Marcos and Matty are both posted and can be relied 
upon ?" queried the lieutenant. 

“ Perfectly," replied Ida. “ They would sooner die 


Runnel and Ida . 


221 


than let him know that you have been here, or are here 
still. That was a point to guard especially, of course.” 

“ Then the only thing to be considered is your course 
of action,” said Walter. “ Will you receive the man 
here, or in the house?” 

“ I will meet him about here, as I usually have done, 
and let him do as he pleases — either lead the way to the 
mansion, or seat himself here. In any and every case 
you will be near me ?” 

“ Of course, dear. Do you apprehend any violence 
from this man ?” 

“ I certainly do not fear any,” returned the brave 
girl as she touched and partially exhibited a pistol she 
carried in her pocket. “ But I dare say he is in a raging 
mood, and that his conduct will not have much of the 
fatherly kindness he has heretofore been at great pains 
to show me.” 

“ Beware of him as you would of a mad dog, or a 
deadly reptile !” enjoined Walter, earnestly. “ Since he 
is not your father, it is impossible to say what malice and 
infamy may underlie all his sentiments and purposes 
towards you. He may be — nay, probably is — at heart 
the worst enemy you have in the world !” 

“ Of course he is all that,” returned Ida, “ or else why 
has he kept me here during all these long years ? But 
one purpose is as strong in my soul, Walter, as any 
purpose can possibly be in his. I do not intend he shall 
take his leave of me again until the mystery respecting 
me has received something of an explanation or clear- 
ing. What is the relation of this man to me ? What is 
he driving at ?” 

“ Perhaps you can extract some light from him upon 
all these points,” suggested Walter. “In any case I 
would make the effort. I have only to add that I shall 
hover near you so long as he remains here.” 


222 


The Young Castaways. 


“ And not merely that, Walter/' breathed Ida, 
thoughtfully, “ but do try to overhear any revelations 
he may make — any admissions — so that I can have in 
you a good witness against him.” 

“ A capital thought !” commented Walter, as he 
pressed the fair girl to his heart a moment. “ Depend 
upon me. And now be as brave and self-possessed as 
a Trojan. This night is destined, it seems to me, to be 
an important one in our histories.” 

“ It shall certainly bring me some new views of this 
pretended father of mine,” said the girl resolutely. 
“ You see that the sloop has anchored, Walter ? that a 
boat is coming ashore? It is time for you to vanish !” 

- “ Kiss me quick, then i” 

The kiss was heartily exchanged and multiplied into 
many, and then Walter concealed himself in a dense 
mass of shrubbery between the little dell and the house. 
The boat they had seen pushing off from the sloop soon 
reached the beach, and a solitary figure leaped nimbly 
ashore from it, and at once struck into the path leading 
to the dwelling. 

This figure was indeed that of Runnel, as Ida saw at 
a glance. 

As brave as she was — as much as she had schooled 
herself to meet him — her heart beat like a hammer upon 
an anvil. 

She did not hesitate an instant, however, in the execu- 
tion of her course of action. Runnel had scarcely began 
the ascent of the slope leading to the house, when she 
moved quietly from her concealment, directing her 
steps toward him. The distance between them les- 
sened rapidly. 

“ Ah, there you are my charming daughter,” cried 
Runnel, in a tone so unlike his usual voice, that no one 
would have believed it to emanate from the same source 


Runnel and Ida. 


223 


— it was now so easy, so soft, so light-hearted. “ Coming 
to welcome me, my little bird, as usual ! This is indeed 
a pleasure !” 

A moment later Ida submitted gracefully to his 
“ paternal ” embrace, notwithstanding the strange 
fervor with which it was given. 

“ And so, you are well and happy as ever ?” he rattled 
on lightly, as he surveyed her features intently in the 
moonlight. “ Perhaps a little changed toward me, after 
my long delay about visiting you ! You seem to me, dear, 
a little cold and strange. But it’s no wonder,” and he 
broke out into a laugh as apparently careless and free 
as the laugh of a school-boy. “ It’s a queer papa that 
you have, to be sure — always hurried to death in busi- 
ness, always absent, and always a stranger to the only 
being he cares for in all the world — his own darling 
daughter.” 

The hypocritical gushing was not so effective 
upon this occasion as it had been during the former 
visits of Runnel. He could not help noticing that Ida 
was singularly silent and non-responsive. 

“ You are not ill, I hope ?” he suddenly asked. 

“ No, sir ; I never was in better health in my life !” 

“ ‘Sir’ to me, your own papa ? It is not of papas 
that girls of your age are thinking, I suppose, but of 
lovers — ha, ha ! Well, well, my dear child, as you grow 
older, you will naturally grow more formal with me, in 
the same ratio with which you become familiar with 
somebody else. Are you surprised to see me ?” 

“ Not in the least. To the contrary, I have been for 
several days expecting you.” 

“ Indeed ! It’s curious what a subtle sense there is 
about a woman. It does seem as if you could almost 
tell at times what is going on hundreds of miles 


2 24 


The Young Castaways . 


distant. But let us sit down here, my child, in our 
favorite dell, and have a good talk with each other.” 

He led the way to the dell in question, and took a 
seat in the rustic chair which had so lately been occu- 
pied by Walter. Ida followed him in thoughtful silence 
and seated herself near him. 

“ Let's see, you are now about seventeen,” said 
Runnel, as he turned a searching glance upon the fair 
face and well-rounded form in front of him. About 
4 sweet seventeen/ eh ?” and he showed his teeth in a 
voiceless laugh resembling the grin of a hyena. 

“ Yes, sir, about seventeen — if I was two years old at 
the time you brought me here, as I have been told.” 

“ Yes, you are seventeen,” said Runnel. “ You were 
two years old at that time, and it has been just fifteen 
years since I brought you to this island. How short the 
time has been !” 

“ How long, you mean.” 

Runnel now laughed audibly. 

“Well, that is merely our different ways of looking 
at the thing, I suppose,” he declared, lightly. “ Time 
would hardly pass as quickly to you in this solitude as 
to me in the busy world in which I have been figuring. 
But you have not been unhappy here, I hope ?” 

“ Have I ever complained ?” 

“ Certainly not — why should you ? You have had all 
that a young girl needs — a good home, books, flowers, 
your embroidery, and servants to wait upon you. But 
I do not expect you to remain here forever.” 

“ May I ask what you do expect concerning me ?” 
asked Ida, quietly. 

The question was so unexpected as to throw Runnel 
momentarily off his balance. 

“Why, really,” he stammered, “I haven’t thought 
much about the matter. Have any of the young men 


Runnel and Ida . 


225 


of the island paid you their addresses, formally or 
otherwise ?” 

“ Certainly not — for two good reasons.” 

4< And those two ?” 

“ The first is that I have purposely kept myself 
secluded, and the second is that my position here is too 
strange, mysterious, and even equivocal, to attract any 
suitor whose attentions would be worth accepting. 
Surely, you cannot be ignorant that I am a target for a 
great deal of annoying gossip ?” . 

“ Indeed ! What do they say ?” 

“ That I have a father who is evidently ashamed of 
me, as he does not keep me with him, and that the less 
said about my mother the better, and that I myself am 
probably no better than I should be, and so on to the 
end of the chapter ! What else could all these little 
minds say of the position in which you have been 
pleased to place me ?” 

“ The insolent dolts !” muttered Runnel. 

“ And that the gossips even extend their com- 
ments to you, is not to be wondered at,” continued Ida. 
“ They ask who you are, what is your business, why 
your visits here are so brief, where you reside when 
you pretend to be at home, what is your very pressing 
business, and ten thousand other questions !” 

“ Indeed !” muttered Runnel, after a thoughtful 
pause. “ Why did you not tell me these things 
sooner ?” 

“ Simply because they have chiefly transpired since 
your former visit. Some of these gossips,” she added, 
“ have even carried their malignancy so far as to doubt 
that you are really my father !” 

“ Indeed !” cried Runnel, with a start. “ It is high 
time for a change of residence, then, and this is, in fact, 
one of the considerations of my present visit !” 


226 


The Young Castaways . 


“ I am to be taken to your residence, I suppose — to 
your home in Boston, New York, Philadelphia or 
Charleston, wherever it may be that you have deigned 
to reside all these years ?” 

“ Yes — to be sure,” returned Runnel, slowly. “ Some 
sort of a change is to be made, and I am here to come 
to some decision in the premises !” 

“ But would it not add fuel to the little flame of our 
gossips,” asked Ida, scornfully, “ if they were to over- 
hear our conversation, and learn from it that I am not 
yet aware in what State or city of the Union you are resid- 
ing ? Are you not, in your confidential dealings with 
me, a model father ?” 

Runnel moved uneasily in his chair. 

“ True, I have kept my own counsels,” he assented, 
“ and why not? You have been a little girl all these 
years, and it is only now, as we may say, that you have 
become entitled to my confidence in regard to many of 
the affairs that mutually concern us ?” 

“ But now you are going to make amends for all that 
reticence,” resumed Ida, with a sneer that escaped his 
notice. “ Now I shall know everything that concerns 
us ?” 

“ Certainly — in due course.” 

“ Then suppose you begin by telling me about my 
mother,” proposed Ida, “ who she was, her name, the 
date of her death, and all the other particulars I, as her 
child, am entitled to know.” 

“Why certainly — in due course,” returned Runnel, 
uneasily. “ I am about to come to an understanding 
with you upon all these matters, of course. But first a 
few questions on every-day matters. Marcos and 
Matty are hearty as ever, I suppose ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ And are still faithful and devoted, taking good care 


Runnel and Ida . 


227 


of the estate and doing all in their power to serve and 
please yon ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ < Sir * again ! Yon haven’t called me father or papa 
to-night. Yon are certainly greatly changed from the 
nervons and clinging girl yon were a year ago — the last 
time I was here, yon know.” 

“ I dare say I am changed, sir,” was the cold answer. 
“ The year in question has been, in fact, a year of great 
changes.” 

Rnnnel felt the force of the remark, especially in 
regard to the change which had taken place in the 
girl’s physical being. She was no longer the timid and 
shrinking child he had left her, bnt a woman. 

“ 4 Sweet seventeen ’ is a period of rapid transition,” 
he soon observed, with a hollow laugh. “ At my age, 
or at Althie’s, the case is different. By the way, where 
is Althie ?” 

“ Dead and buried, sir.” 

At this unexpected answer Rnnnel stared at Ida as if 
he deemed her bereft of her senses. 

“ Dead and buried ?” he repeated. “ What can yon 
mean ?” 

“ To answer your question simply and truly, sir. You 
asked after Althie, and I reply that she is dead and 
buried.” 

“ Surely you cannot mean it, child !” he declared, in 
apprehensive amazement. “ You wouldn’t have waited 
until now to tell me of such a frightful misfortune !” 

“ I did wait, as you will eventually learn, sir. I waited 
to see if I could learn anything from you before you 
learned too much from me. If you still doubt that the 
woman in question is dead, I will call Marcos and Matty 
as witnesses of her death and burial.” 

" But this is surprising — astounding !” exclaimed 


228 


The Young Castaways , 


Runnel. “ I should have thought you would have 
mentioned the matter immediately, instead of waiting 
until we had traveled around Robin Hood’s barn.” 

Ida smiled icily. 

“ You misjudge me in that way because you do not 
fully comprehend my character, I am thinking,” she 
declared, scornfully. “My soul was not bound up in 
the existence of ‘ Althie !’ She has never been to me 
much more than a jailer.” 

“ How did she die ?” asked Runnel, abruptly. 

“ Of the bite of a serpent, in less than half an hour 
after she was bitten — as horrible a death as can be 
imagined.” 

“ She suffered greatly, then ?” 

“ A great deal, sir — especially mentally.” 

“ How mentally ?” 

“Why, at the approach of death, she naturally 
repented of the long life of infamy and falsehood she 
had passed in your service.” 

“ Infamy ? Falsehood ?” gasped Runnel. “ What can 
you mean, my child ? 

“I mean that the ‘my child ’ business is pretty well 
exposed, sir,” declared Ida, with swift, steady, crushing 
utterance. “ In her last moments, Althie confessed all 
the wickedness in which she had so long borne a part. 
She told me that you are not my father, and that you 
are neither an honest nor an honorable man, but the 
notorious slave-trader, Captain Grebb RunneL” 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

ANOTHER UNACCOUNTABLE ABSENCE. 

It was to no ordinary peril that we left Arty Seaborn 
and his friends, as well as the good brig Bunting , 
exposed. The assailants were at least three hundred in 
number, and had not far from sixty canoes. It is not 
too much to say that they literally swarmed around the 
devoted band of defenders, their advance arriving long 
before Arty and his companions had taken adequate 
measures to repel them. 

But Arty — the ruling spirit of the hour — did not once 
falter in the work to which his destiny had thus 
unexpectedly called him. 

Not merely with rifle, pistol, and sabre did he and his 
hardy companions repel the noisy and murderous 
assailants, but with scalding water, hand grenades, and 
even the brig’s signal rockets, the sharp wits of our hero 
having promptly told him that these latter means of 
defence were especially calculated to throw the negroes 
into confusion. 

We hasten to add that it was only to the use of these 
more novel engines of war that the young hero and his 
friends were indebted for their eventual victory. 

Perhaps the scalding water — of which the cook’s 
coppers happened to be full at the moment — was the 
element that turned the tide of battle in favor of the 

[229] 


230 


The Young Castaways . 


defence. There are few things, in fact, more dreaded 
than scalding water by a naked savage. 

The deck of the brig being finally cleared of the 
assailants, Arty and his gallant friends naturally rested 
from the strife, while they listened and watched to see 
what would be the next move of the blacks. Assured 
at length that no further assault was to be immediately 
expected, the little band of heroes cleared the deck 
alike of the living and the dead, throwing them all over- 
board indiscriminately — an act which may be justly 
blamed, no doubt, but one that the great majority of 
mankind will be found as ready to comprehend as to 
excuse. 

“ And now to follow the rascals and see if I can find 
Capt. Strong and the rest,” said Arty to Elgy, when all 
was in readiness aboard of the brig for another piece 
of work like that just finished. 

“ But how can you follow them ?” asked Elgie, 
anxiously. il There is no boat.” 

“ I must fall back upon a more primitive age of navi- 
gation than boating,” said our hero, smilingly. “ In a 
word, I shall have to swim.” 

“ But there are sharks all along these coasts,” 
observed the second mate, who was more remarkable for 
almost anything else than for his courage and brilliancy. 
He was, in fact, a good-natured booby, the only son of 
wealthy parents, of whom Capt. Strong had undertaken 
to make a navigator, merely on account of his father 
and mother, who were especial friends of the honest 
captain. 

“ True, there are sharks here,” assented Arty, “ but 
they are not so thick and voracious as we shall find them 
further down the coast. Another thing, they must have 
made a pretty good meal already of the forty or fifty 


Another Unaccountable Absence . 231 


Africans, dead or living, who have just been served up 
to them.” 

“ Oh, Arty !” cried Elgie. 

“ Well, what do you want, 'dear ?” 

The girl hung her head. She didn’t want anything. 
The exclamation had excaped her because the young 
man’s remark seemed Neronic — that is to say, a sort 
of fiddling at the burning of Rome — but she did not 
know how to tell him so. In fact, when she reflected 
that Arty himself might have been lost to her in the 
struggle the savages had so wickedly provoked, she 
went out of the pity mood even more quickly than she 
had passed into it. 

“ It is settled, then,” said Arty, as quietly as if the 
remark had referred to his taking his seat in a carriage 
for a ride. “ I will secure the best life-preserver there 
is on the brig, and swim to the shore. It’s a thousand 
pities I haven’t at command the famous Indian-rubber 
suit of other days, but with a good ring canbuoy I dare 
say I shall not have the least trouble in effecting a 
landing. 

“ We are at least half a mile from the shore,” said the 
second mate, who remained as adverse to Arty’s pro- 
posed movement as ever. 

“ But why don’t you take one of the native canoes, 
Arty ?” suddenly suggested Elgie. “ They are floating 
all around us.” 

“ On every side except the shore side, true,” assented 
Arty. “ But the wind and tide are off shore, and it 
would be ten times as much work to paddle one of 
these dugouts ashore as to swim there. And that is 
why I will depend upon swimming.” 

The arrangements of the young man were soon per- 
fected, and he quietly took his departure over the side 
to the great regret of at least two persons — Elgie, who 


232 


The Young Castaways . 


feared he would be drowned or eaten by the sharks, 
and the second mate, who mourned that in case of any 
further attack Arty would not be present to defend 
him. 

Guided by numerous lights on the shore, Arty swam 
as nimbly as a fish in that direction. If he was not 
particularly afraid of having an arm or a limb gob- 
bled, and his whole body consequently secured as a 
feast, by the scaly monsters presumed to be near 
him, he was aware how much a constant motion tends 
to keep them at a distance, and hence he did not make 
the smallest imaginable sojourn by the way — not so 
much as to send a single glance behind him. 

After a swim that seemed even shorter than the 
favorable view he had taken of it beforehand, Arty 
neared the shore a little to the westward of the princi- 
pal lights, and consequently at a point a little removed 
from the scenes in which the natives were so noisily 
figuring. 

Securing his canbuoy to the first bush he encoun- 
tered at the beach, Arty emerged from the water and 
crept as near to the crowd of half-frantic natives as he 
could, taking advantage of every bush or other object 
to prevent his presence from being discovered. 

Here, however, Arty could learn nothing about 
Captain Strong and the missing sailors. It was easy 
enough to see that the blacks were bemoaning the loss 
of their friends, and more especially their failure to 
capture the brig, but beyond this their howlings and 
jumpings did not have the least signification. The 
prisoners, if Captain Strong and the missing men were 
indeed prisoners, were nowhere in view. 

“ I must go- further inland !” thought Arty. 

He hastened to do so. He did not pause, in fact, 
until he was a couple of miles inland, behind a consid- 


Another Unaccountable Absenee % 233 


erable range of hills, and in the midst of a considerable 
native town, to which he was guided by the constant 
stream of natives, with torches, who were journeying 
toward it from the coast, or returning to the coast 
from it. 

And here it was that the bold and resolute intruder 
suddenly learned what had happened. 

The little fetish temple in the midst of the town 
was in a blaze of light. Around it were great num- 
bers of natives, all more or less excited. And just 
within the portal of the grim edifice lay Captain 
Strong and his men, all bound hand and foot, all par- 
tially stripped of their clothes, and all looking forward 
to the death with which they were threatened. 

It was impossible, of course, for Arty to form at the 
moment any clear idea of the ceremonies in progress, 
the precise motives of the natives for their violence, or 
the benefit they expected to derive from the juggleries 
of the priests in reference to the captives. All our hero 
saw was that a profound darkness reigned immedi- 
ately back of the fetish house, and that the minis- 
ters of the grovelling rites — a couple of stalwart 
blacks — had extinguished or removed the torches from 
their immediate vicinity, so as to shroud their entire 
proceedings in that dim light, or rather general dark- 
ness, which is so essential to the success of their impos- 
tures. 

The mind of Arty was made up with the quickness of 
a flash of lightning. 

Taking his way to the rear of the temple, he knocked 
the two busy magicians upon the head with the first 
club he encountered, and then further reduced the 
light shed abroad in that darkness, after covering him- 
self with one of the vast mantles under which the 
enchanter had been operating. 


234 


The Young Castcnvays . 


A moment later, while all was awe and expectation 
on the part of the natives, Arty released Capt. Strong 
and his men from their bonds, and led the way rapidly 
from the scene, taking the route of the coast in a joy 
too great for expression. And in less than an hour 
thereafter, having availed themselves of their own boats 
which they found on the beach, the whole party was 
safe aboard of the Bunting . 

“ This is the last call I shall make hereabouts,” said 
Capt. Strong, after he and the rest had narrated how 
the natives had surprised and secured them. “ I am 
going straight on now to the Cameroons. If it had not 
been for Arty’s bravery and devotion, we should all 
have perished like rats in a trap, for the black rascals 
were thoroughly enraged at us for the losses they have 
suffered and the little they have secured to show for it. 

It was several days after these adventures that the 
Bunting arrived in sight of the Cameroon mountains — a 
series of vast peaks rising, one above another, to a height 
of more than two miles. As the Cameroons rise directly 
from the water’s edge, they look a great deal higher 
than they really are, as is the case with Teneriffe and 
other similar islands, and their apparent vastness very 
naturally filled our young travelers with curious amaze- 
ment. 

“ Are you going to run for King Bell’s town immedi- 
ately, sir ?” asked the mate of Captain Strong, as the 
old navigator stood pointing out to the young couple 
the new and marvelous sights before them. 

“ No, Conway,” replied the captain. “ I have got to 
call at a point off the coast near Pirate’s Island, with a 
boat’s load of things that were sent for by one of the 
wild chiefs of the neighborhood.” 

“ Pirate’s Island ?” murmured Elgie. “ Is that really 
its name, Captain Strong ?” 


Another Unaccountable Absence . 235 


“ Certainly. It is so called from the pirates who 
infested it hundreds of years ago, when these coasts 
were first beginning to be famous.” 

“ And are the inhabitants really pirates ?” 

“ They are not merely pirates/’ returned Captain 
Strong, “ but the Ishmaels of the whole region — their 
hands being against every man’s, and every man’s 
against them.” 

“ And yet you dare to go among such people !” 

“ As you will soon see,” said the old navigator, smil- 
ingly. “ The truth is, I saved the life of the chief in 
question, by rescuing him from a boat’s crew of his 
hereditary enemies, and he has been a very good friend 
and customer of mine ever since.” 

“ And where is this Pirate’s island ?” asked Elgie, 
looking eagerly ahead. 

“ It is that little dot at the base of the mountains, and 
immediately in front of them.” 

“ Why, it looks like a bird’s nest !” cried Elgie. 

“ Well, it isn’t much bigger than one — the strangest 
little rookery I have ever encountered. Perhaps we 
will all pay it a visit together, as the protection of my 
chief would ensure us all a good reception. But my 
first visit is to the mainland near the island, and not to 
the island itself — to a little stretch of beach in the bay 
of Amboises, and directly at the base of the Came- 
roons.” 

In the course of a couple of hours more the Bunting 
was anchored in the bay in question. 

The day was now drawing to a close, but the com- 
mander did not have the least doubt of disposing of the 
business in hand, and returning to the brig before the 
night should fairly set in. A boat was accordingly low- 
ered, the goods referred to were placed in it, and a couple 
of sailors were detailed to row it to the land. 


236 


The Young Castaways. 


“You may go with me, Arty, if you are willing/’ 
observed the commander, “ as I may wish to leave you 
in charge of the boat, while the boys help me with the 
goods.” 

Arty was glad, as usual, at the chance thus afforded, 
and the boat was soon off for her destination, which 
she reached in due course, without accident or trouble. 
The chief and his retinue were upon the strand, with 
numerous followers and subjects, and the goods brought 
by the Bunting were carried, with great rejoicings, a 
short distance into the interior, to the town of the petty 
monarch ; Captain Strong and his two sailors going with 
them, partly to receive their pay and partly to visit. 

Left to himself in charge of the boat, Arty waited 
patiently enough until nightfall — until night had fully 
set in, in fact — but when several hours had glided away 
and nothing was heard or seen of Captain Strong, who 
was to have returned in half an hour, the young man 
naturally became anxious. 

“ It seems to me that he is mysteriously absent 
again !” he ejaculated. “ What can have happened?” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE. 

The question Arty had asked himself, as he realized 
the suspicious nature of Captain Strong’s prolonged 
absence, was neither a complaint nor a reproach, but a 
preliminary to business. 

“ I must go and see what has become of them,” he 
decided, after a few minutes of deep reflection. “ In 


A Midnight Adventure . 237 


this darkness the boat can take care of itself, as no one 
would see it a dozen yards distant.” 

A question arose as to whether he should return to 
the brig and inform Elgie and his comrades of the 
absence of the party, but he was not long in perceiving 
that such a course would be a useless waste of time. 

“ Suppose the captain should come here the minute 
I am fairly gone with the boat,” he mused, “ a pretty 
kettle of fish he’d have to fry, wouldn’t he ? No, I’ll 
leave the boat where the captain can find it whenever 
he may arrive here, and then I will take a good look 
in the direction he has gone. I dare say I shall soon 
meet him.” 

Securing the boat upon a beach that was at once 
retired and sandy, Arty took a good look at the lights 
of the brig, to assure himself that she had not left her 
anchorage, and then he struck out at a brisk pace for 
the rocky eminence over which Captain Strong and his 
two men, with their numerous black entertainers, had 
passed from his sight. 

He had scarcely left the shore, however, when he was 
brought to a halt by sharp reports of musketry from 
the quarter to which he was proceeding. These re- 
ports were soon repeated, now in running fire, and anon 
in general volleys. 

“ The captain and his men had no guns,” was the 
instant reflection of our hero. “ A war of the natives 
must have broken out, and it may be that the captain 
is in some way involved in it. Or it may be that an 
attack has been made upon the captain.” 

This latter thought was sufficient to send Arty swiftly 
on his way again. He was not long in surmounting 
the eminence to which reference has been made, and 
in a few moments thereafter was striding swiftly along 
the valley thus entered. 


238 


The Young Castaways. 


A profound silence had now succeeded to the late 
reports of musketry, and Arty endeavored, as he passed 
on his way in the darkness, to force himself to believe 
that the firing he had heard resulted from some harm- 
less recreation, or from some equally harmless scare. 
But a sudden and fiercer renewal of the reports 
assured our hero that an actual battle was in progress 
at no great distance from him. 

This point being definitely established, the young 
man quickened his steps, determined to learn as soon 
as possible whether Captain Strong was involved in the 
warfare or not. 

Guided now by the almost constant reports from the 
scene of conflict, exactly as he had been guided by the 
lights on the occasion of his former search for Captain 
Strong, he soon arrived in the immediate vicinity of the 
battle, so near, in fact, as to hear excited voices, and the 
groans of the wounded and dying, 

“ It is strange,” he said to himself, “ that these blacks 
cannot live in peace among themselves, but must be 
always making war upon one another. But it is equally 
strange,” he mused further, “ what Captain Strong has 
to do with the affair. Are these his friendly allies, and 
if so has he remained to take part in their quarrel ?” 

This last mental query seemed to throw more light 
upon the situation than all his previous reflections. 
What was more natural, if Captain Strong had found 
his ally in trouble, than to send him prompt assistance ? 

At the pace at which he had advanced from the coast 
— nearly the pace of a good horse — Arty was soon 
within a view worthy of description. 

Upon the crest of a bare hill, which overlooked a 
narrow valley, in the center of which ran a considerable 
stream, was a large wooden stockade, built in a style 
that is general thoughout Africa, and yet displaying a 


239 


A Midnight Adventure . 


great deal of good sense and skill. The tops of its 
timbers were sharpened, so as to make it a most risky 
business to attempt to scale them, and the natural 
strength of the place rendered it almost impregnable to 
such rude assaults as the natives are capable of deliver- 
ing. 

Behind this stockade were visible a large number of 
defenders, the most of them black, but having three 
notable white faces in their midst, which Arty at once 
recognized, by the flames of various burning materials, 
as the faces of Capt. Strong and his seamen. 

“ Thank Heaven ! he is safe f ” cried Arty, aloud. “ It 
is as I supposed. He has espoused some quarrel of the 
chief he is visiting.” 

Moving in the direction of the stockade, Arty raised 
his voice to its loudest pitch in a succession of cries, and 
instantly had the pleasure of seeing that it resounded 
so high above all the din and confusion of the moment 
as to reach the ears for which it was intended. 

“ This way, Arty !” shouted Capt. Strong, in a voice 
that rang like a trumpet over the adjacent hill-sides. 
“ Come to the big gate !” 

Acting upon this hint, our hero was soon in the midst 
of the enclosure, where he was received with a wild 
outburst of rejoicing, not merely by Capt. Strong and 
his sailors, but by the sable chieftain and his subjects. 

“ You come just in time,” was the greeting of Capt. 
Strong. “ You heard the firing, I suppose, and became 
uneasy about us.” 

“ Not until after I had set out to look you up,” replied 
Arty. “ But what is the trouble here ?” 

“ A curious trouble enough,” replied the old nav- 
igator. “ A party of slave-hunters have suddenly made 
an attack upon my ebony friend and his people with a 
view to reducing them to slavery.” 


240 


The Young Castaways. 


“ Slave-hunters ? White men, do you mean, sir ?” 

“ Yes, my lad, a gang of our white cut-throats from 
the other side of the water,” declared the captain. 
“ Perhaps their cupidity is increased by some knowledge 
of the goods I have brought to African Jack, my ally. 
Be that as it may, a gang of villains came swooping 
down upon us just as I was about to settle with Jack, 
and have been giving us a world of trouble ever since. 
You see nothing of them for the moment, to be sure, as 
they are getting strength for a new start, but they are 
down there in the valley, in a sort of natural trench 
which prevents us from doing them justice. I am happy 
at believing, however, that I have laid one or two of 
them so thoroughly to rest in that trench that they will 
never require any other !” 

Arty smiled at the zeal with which Captain Strong 
had espoused the cause of his sable friend, and the 
commander continued : 

“ If we only had the tools aboard of the Bunting , we 
would use that crowd of ruffians up in about fifteen 
minutes. I refer, of course, to those double-barrelled 
rifles, with fixed ammunition, with which you repelled 
the blacks so mortally on the occasion of our former 
battle.” 

“ Then why don’t you let me return to the brig for 
the rifles, Capt. Strong ?” asked Arty, with simple 
directness. “ And if all is quiet in that quarter, it will be 
easy for me to bring along three or four of the boys to 
assist in bringing this little job to a satisfactory con- 
clusion.” 

“ The very thing !” cried the old navigator. 

“ In this way,” added Arty, “ I shall quiet the anx- 
iety Elgie and the rest must naturally have conceived 
respecting us.” 

“ Yes, and you will assist in putting down these men- 


A Midnight Adventure . 


241 


stealing vagabonds and collecting iny pay for the goods 
I brought here/’ returned Captain Strong, smilingly. 
“ Be off at once, if you think you can find your way 
back to the shore in the darkness — a difficult job, I fear, 
as the path is a very poor one and seems to intersect a 
great many others.” 

“ I can at least make the effort,” said Arty, cheerfully. 
“ In any case, whether I get through quickly or not, 
you will know that I am safe, sir, and I should like to 
be able to give Elgie and the rest an equally good 
promise of your future.” 

“ Well, you need not have the least hesitation on that 
score,” declared the old navigator. “African Jack and 
I can hold out here, for all these fellows can do, till 
the morning of eternity.” 

Smiling again at the captain’s heartiness in his novel 
situation, Arty wrung his hand earnestly, and was then 
let out into the road leading from the town of African 
Jack to the sea — the road, in fact, by which the young 
hero had come. Taking care to avoid the notice of the 
besiegers, he hurried away in the path he had so lately 
traversed, and in less than five minutes had crossed 
the crest of a ridge which shut him out from the view 
of the chieftain’s stronghold, as indicated by the lights 
and fires within it. 

“And now to make quick time to the shore,” was 
Arty’s thought, as he found himself alone in the great 
solitude. “Fortunately, there is light enough for me 
to see the path as well as the greater dangers by which 
it is beset in the shape of precipices.” 

On and on he sped for several minutes longer, and 
then he found himself suddenly halted by a question as 
to which of two paths before him was the one by which 
he had come. 

An instant he inclined his ear, hoping to learn from 


242 


The Young Castaways . 


the roar of the sea in what direction it lay, but he was 
too far distant from it for its voices to reach him. 

“ It must be to the right,” he said to himself, after a 
few moments of watchful survey of the scene around 
him. “The other path is too rocky and steep. It 
would carry me to the clouds, I should say, instead of 
to the sea. I must go to the right.” 

He acted upon this decision, and sped on for quite a 
distance along the front of a high ledge, but at last he 
became aware that everything was wearing a singularly 
new and strange look to him. 

“ Surely, I have not been here before,” he said to 
himself, halting. “ I must have taken the wrong path 
after all.” 

He went on again slowly, looking inquiringly around 
him, and suddenly his face brightened. 

“ Here’s a path that will carry me to the right 
one,” he ejaculated, as he came to another junction. 
“ And now to make up for lost time.” 

Entering the new path, he sped along with renewed 
speed, but was soon pained and surprised to find 
that it returned to the one he had last quitted. 

He was now at a high elevation, and apparently on 
the side of a mountain, for he could see far away in the 
distance — many miles away — lights which he believed 
to indicate the whereabouts of the Bunting. A cold 
sweat of excitement broke out upon his forehead. 

“ I must be miles out of my true course,” he mused, 
“ and in the midst of the frightful precipices of the Cam- 
eroon Mountains ! What is to become of me ? How 
shall I strike the true path ? I wonder if there is a soul 
within call ?” 

He was debating these problems in his mind, standing 
motionless, when the figure of a woman suddenly ap- 
peared to his view, in the act of descending to his level 


A Midnight Adventure . 


M3 


from one of the heights above him, by means of a nar- 
row and steep path, which was barely perceivable in the 
darkness. 

At sight of this figure, Arty’s heart suddenly quick- 
ened its beating to a gallop. 

Who was she ? Whence did she come ? and whither 
was she going ? 

It was now after midnight, and it seemed a strange 
and startling thing for a white woman, as he had seen 
at a glance that she was, to be wandering at that hour 
in those wild mountains, which Captain Strong had 
expressly told him were not inhabited. 

“ Who are you ?” he called, breaking the silence which 
only the footfalls of the woman had been disturbing. 

A suppressed scream came from the woman, and then 
a groan of anguish. 

“ Who are you, I say ?” 

Instead of replying, the woman turned to fly by the 
path by which she had come. 

“ That is strange conduct,” cried Arty, mentally. “ I 
will follow her !” 

While acting upon this resolve, he called repeatedly 
to the fugitive, saying that he intended no evil, but she 
did not pay the least heed to him, other than to fly more 
and more rapidly in the same ratio with which he quick- 
ened the pursuit. 

“ She won’t make much by this business.” said Arty 
to himself, with more or less vexation of spirit at being 
led such a chase. “ I’ll see what becomes of her, or I’ll 
burst.” 

The chase was indeed a long and swift one. Higher 
and higher climbed the woman, now traversing the 
brow of vast precipices, from which a single misstep 
would have precipitated her a hundred yards below, and 


244 


The Young Castaways . 


now plunging through shadows at the base of similar 
towering peaks. 

“ Well, am I not able to run down a woman?” said 
Arty to himself at length. “ We’ll see.” 

He threw all his soul into the struggle. 

In this way he began to gain steadily upon the fugitive 
— to arrive nearer and nearer, despite all her desperate 
efforts to get clear of him. Her breathing now fell loud 
and pantingly upon his hearing, and he could see by the 
brighter moonlight of the vast heights he had now 
reached, that her steps were beginning to flag and waver. 

“ Hold on, I say J” he called again. u I mean you no 
harm !” 

Not the least attention being paid to him, the chase 
continued as before, but with a result that was now seen 
to be inevitable, the pursuer gradually closing up the 
gap between him and the woman. He had even extend- 
ed his hand to seize her, when a large stone cottage sud- 
denly loomed up in the midst of a grove, crowning the 
crest of a plateau, and the fugitive contrived, by a final 
burst of speed, to reach the entrance of this edifice a few 
yards in advance of him. Strangely enough the door 
of this edifice was of iron, as was revealed by the clang 
of the key in its lock, and by the hollow echoes the door 
gave off to the least touch as it turned upon its hinges. 

For one instant the woman hoped to take shelter with- 
in the dwelling before Arty could reach it, but the 
youngster’s blood was up, and he did not hesitate to 
insert his foot in the doorway and force open the door, 
despite all the efforts of the woman to close it upon him. 

There was a bright light in the apartment thus 
invaded, and as it fell full upon Arty’s wild and flushed 
face, the woman recoiled from him with a cry of inde- 
scribable terror. 

“ Oh ! who are you ?” she panted 


A Change of Relations . 


245 


“ My name is Arty Seaborn, madam,” he replied, 
removing his hat. “ I belong aboard the Bunting .” 

The announcement seemed to paralyze the strange 
lady. She stared at the intruder fixedly a moment, and 
then fell in a death-like swoon to the floor 1 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

A CHANGE OF RELATIONS. 

The consternation of Grebb Runnel at his unmasking 
from the lips of Ida, as related, was too great to admit 
of any immediate movement or reply. He sat as if 
turned to stone, except that a nervous trembling per- 
vaded his frame, and his eyes glared like those of a 
madman. 

“ The woman must have been crazy,” was his first 
declaration. 

“ No, sir, she was perfectly sane. I can vouch for the 
fact.” 

“ Then she must have designed to punish me for some 
real or fancied slight, by producing a coldness between 
you and me, Ida !” 

“ Nothing of the kind, sir,” affirmed Ida, in the same 
clear, decided tones she had before used, u The woman 
was dying, and naturally wanted to make amends for 
her wrong-doing !” 

“ You believe what she told you, then ?” 

“ Most implicitly.” 

“ This accounts for the change I have noticed in you. 
You believe her — ” 

“ I know that she spoke the truth. I am not your 


246 


The Young Castaways. 


daughter, Captain Runnel, and no one can be more con- 
scious of that fact than yourself.” 

“Not my daughter, eh ?” returned Runnel, with a ris- 
ing wrath in his tones. “ Permit me to declare to you, 
by everything sacred — ” 

“ Anything you please, sir — anything you please, sir 
— that is not at variance with what I know,” interrupted 
Ida. “ But among the things I know is the fact that 
you are not my father. I should even perceive the fact 
in your dealings with me, now that I am in a position to 
review them. Say what you will, sir — only do not say 
anything to add to my present conviction that you are 
one of the most consummate of liars.” 

Grebb Runnel had never turned pale in his life with 
anger, but he did so now. 

“ One would say that you are utterly demented,” he 
muttered. 

“ Let us not talk in the air, Captain Runnel,” pro- 
posed Ida, sternly. “ Let us get at the facts. A tew 
questions categorically. To begin with, do you begin 
to assert, in the face of that dying woman’s declaration, 
made to Marcos and Matty, as well as to myself, that 
you are the author of my being ?” 

Runnel hesitated. No man lies except upon the pre- 
sumption of being believed. In this case the villain 
knew that no amount of lying could gain him one iota 
of credence. 

On the other hand, what objection was there to avow- 
ing a portion of the truth ? 

Was she not a gloriously beautiful girl ? Had she not 
lived in £uch seclusion as to be heart-free ? Was she 
not even available to him ? Could he not drop the role 
of father and in due course assume that of lover ? 

“Well, what course will you take?” resumed Ida, 
with an icy smile of contempt. “ Will you attempt 


A Change of Relations . 


247 


your impossible mountain of falsehood, or will you 
tumble into the easy valley of confession ?” 

“ You have not told me fully what Althie said to you,” 
he observed. “ Let me have the fullest particulars !” 

u So that you can model your confession or admis- 
sions upon them, eh ?” sneered Ida. “All I need say at 
present, upon Althie!s authority, is that you are not 
my father. What is your response to this plain state- 
ment ?” 

The villain hesitated a few moments longer, and then 
answered : 

“ The matter having gone so far — ” 

“ Oh, of course !” 

“ I may as well admit that Althie’s declaration is 
quite correct, and that I am not your father !” 

“ Then what are you ? An uncle, perhaps ? Or a 
good Samaritan who found me by the wayside ? Sup- 
pose you go into details ? It is really a curious problem 
to me how I came into your hands, and why you should 
have taken upon yourself the extraordinary role in 
which you have been figuring. Suppose you turn all 
the light possible upon this darkness ?” 

“ My dear girl / 9 returned Runnel, “ you are inclined 
to be mocking and malicious in this inquiry, but there 
is no occasion for any sentiments of that nature. I am, 
indeed, Captain Grebb Runnel, slave-trader, villain, or 
what you will. Your father was a shiftless South 
Carolina planter, who was killed in a brawl, and who 
with his last breath implored me, as his college chum, 
to take charge of you. As to your mother, who was 
of the class known as 1 poor whites,’ the less said of 
her the better. You are the daughter of shame, and 
it was to rear you in ignorance of all their infamies 
that I brought you to this island !” 

A quick, ringing blow from Ida’s jewelled hand, as 


248 


The Young Castaways . 


she sprang to her feet, brought blood to the foul lips 
of Runnel. 

“You are indeed an infamous liar,” she cried, with 
a sibylline grandeur of passion. “ If it were not for 
having the blood of a worthless reptile upon my hands,* 
and she drew her pistol, cocking it immediately under 
his nose, “ you should answer now and here with your 
life for this dastardly insult to my mother ! Know, vile 
wretch, that I will not believe the least word against 
her memory you can utter !” 

To say that Runnel was astonished at this outburst 
of emotion, is a very mild way of putting the case. 

“ And this is the tigress I have cherished in this jun- 
gle,” he muttered, as he wiped his bleeding lips. “By 
heaven ! am I really awake, or dreaming ?** 

“ Dreaming, sir — as only knavish fools can dream,*’ 
cried Ida — “ dreaming that some infamous plot, some 
vile wrong-doing, is destined to bring you some great 
good or satisfaction, when in reality every step in the 
business is carrying you swiftly down to present and 
eternal destruction. But know, sir, that in me you have 
an accuser who will never cease to investigate your 
secrets until all their foul corruption is as patent as the 
sun in the heavens.” 

Gradually the self-possession of Runnel came back to 
him. After all, his accuser was only a weak girl. She 
was still in a lonely island, where his authority over her 
was generally recognized. And there were his sloop 
and his minions within rifle-shot. Why should he take 
her “ insolence *' so meekly ? How easy it would be for 
him to carry her off to sea, and give her a long seclu- 
sion in which to moderate her anger ! 

“ Don’t carry this thing too far, my girl,” he enjoined, 
with some trace of his reflections looking from his eyes. 
“You are still as simple and harmless a being as there 


A Change of Relations . 


249 


is in the world, and must not be in too great haste to 
play with edged tools and the like.” 

For a few moments Ida was silent, and then she 
raised her head, remarking : 

“ I shall not ask you for any further information 
about myself, Captain Runnel, for two very good rea- 
sons. In the first place, I do not believe you would tell 
me a word of truth, and, in the second place, I could 
not believe, under any circumstances, a word from you 
on any subject, unless your word were supported by 
other testimony. In view of these facts, why should we 
prolong this interview ? I will thank you to leave me !” 

“ Indeed, Miss!” sneered Runnel. “And how long 
since, if you please, did you become the owner of these 
premises ? My impression is that I am in my own house 
and grounds, and that I shall remain here until it suits 
me to take my departure.” 

“ Very well, sir — remain,” said Ida, moving away from 
him. “It will answer all the requirements of the case 
if I take my departure from the premises !” 

“ That is a thing you will not do,” said Runnel, mock- 
ingly, as he caught her by one of her wrists, detaining 
her. “ Without going into any details as to my inten- 
tions concerning you, I may be allowed to declare, in the 
plainest of English, that I have not the least design of 
losing your company. Your presence will doubtless be 
doubly necessary to me from this time forward — because 
I have reason to hate and fear as I have to love you !” 

“ Let go my arm, sir !” 

Instead of complying, Runnel glared at her features 
as revealed by the moonlight. 

“ By heaven !” he muttered, unguardedly, “ you are 
the very image of your mother ! The same spirit ! the 
same beauty ! Never, while the earth endures, shall you 
leave me !” 


250 


The Young Castaways . 


“ Let go my arm, Captain Runnel, and quickly,” com- 
manded Ida, sternly. “ Quickly, I say !” 

“And the poor little fool thinks she is going to deal 
with Grebb Runnel upon that sort of footing !” ejacu- 
lated the ruffian, as he tightened his grasp upon her. 
“ Ah, how little you know me ! Fume and struggle as 
you will, young woman, you are going straight to 
my sloop. And should you have the misfortune to 
attempt any resistance with that pistol you have 
exhibited, I will soon teach you what it is to have Grebb 
Runnel for an enemy/' 

The pistol was out in an instant, notwithstanding the 
threat, but Ida had not calculated either the strength 
or the vigor his furious passions had lent her enemy. 
The weapon had scarcely left her pocket when it was 
stricken from her hand, flying a couple of rods, and 
becoming lost in the bushes, and at the same time Run- 
nel still further tightened his grasp upon her wrist, 
smiling grimly. 

“ You can come with me now," he said, with a smile 
as hideous and insolent as it was menacing. “ I will 
take you to the sloop !” 

He dragged her away rudely, but had not gone a 
dozen yards, when he received a blow that brought him 
senseless to the ground. And when he recovered his 
senses, a few moments thereafter, he found himself 
bound hand and foot, as in some giant vise, and the girl 
seated quietly in the chair she had previously occupied, 
and looking smilingly down upon him. 

“Your plans didn't work, did they ?” she sneered, 
when she saw that he was again conscious. 

“No ; curse you !" was his savage response. “Who 
was it that struck me ? That infernal black ? If so, I 
will kill him !" 


A Change of Relations . 


251 


“ It wasn’t that * infernal black,’ Captain Runnel. It 
was Walter !” 

“ Walter ? Walter who ?” 

“ Why, the Walter you so lately had a little scrim- 
mage with on the Ranger ,” continued the girl. “Lieu- 
tenant Walter Trumbull of the United States Navy !” 

At this announcement, Walter advanced from his con- 
cealment behind Ida, and placed himself immediately in 
front of the bound and prostrate man, in such a position 
that the moonlight fell full upon his fine form and fea- 
tures. 

“Yes, it was I that hit you, Runnel,” said Walter smil- 
ingly. “ How do you like it ?” 

If looks could have blasted the young couple, they 
would both have died then and there. Never had either 
seen upon a human face such a look of impotent 
despairing and malignancy as mantled Runnel’s feat- 
ures. And with his wild rage was blended an equally 
strong curiosity as to how Walter had come there and 
what were their relations to each other. 

Upon the latter point, he was soon sufficiently 
enlightened by seeing Ida advance to Walter’s side and 
pass her arm through his, and stand leaning affection- 
ately upon him. 

“ The situation is really aggravating, Runnel, no 
doubt/’ resumed Walter, seeing that his prisoner had 
no language in which to express his feelings. “ But it 
is not our intention to prolong it. Within twenty 
minutes we shall call your men ashore, and take them 
prisoners, placing them beside you, where you will all 
be found by the islanders in the morning. And within 
forty minutes at the latest, Miss Ida and I will be off 
for Charleston in your sloop, and Marcos and Matty 
will go with ns.** 

It was utterly in vain that Runnel endeavored to mar 


252 


The Young Castazvays. 


this programme by uttering loud calls for assistance. 
His cries had no other effect than to summon Marcos and 
Matty, who were soon informed of the posture of affairs 
and lent themselves actively to the wishes of their 
young master and mistress. Everything was soon 
ready for departure. 

“ And so, adieu,” was the remark with which Walter 
took his leave of Runnel. “ It is a long search that Ida 
and I are about to enter upon to find out her parent- 
age and history, but we doubt not that we shall 
succeed in our ends sooner or later. I might carry you 
to Commodore Paulding, but to what earthly good ? I 
have no other proofs of your criminality than you have 
told me, and your word is as worthless as a reptile’s hiss. 
As to your crime against me, I could have no other 
witnesses than your vile confederates, out of a score of 
whose mouths not the smallest proposition could be 
established before any court or jury. We leave you 
here, therefore, with your men, to be released by the 
islanders in the morning, and have the pleasure of 
bidding you — we trust — a final farewell !” 

A few minutes thereafter, with such of Ida's effects as 
she had chosen, and with Marcos and Matty, the lovers 
took possession of the sloop in which Runnel had come, 
and steered quietly away from the island, taking the 
most direct route for Charleston. 

Not one of the four persons upon the sloop slept a 
wink during the night, all being too busy with the 
exciting events they had so lately traversed. 

The following morning, at daybreak, a large frigate- 
of-war suddenly loomed up out of the fog, a couple of 
miles away, and a wild shout of delight burst from 
Marcos’ lips. 

“ It is the Decatur /” he cried. “ I will resume my 
berth aboard of her, Ida, and you shall go with us as & 


Mother and Son % 


253 


passenger until — -until," and he smiled tenderly, “ until 
other arrangements !” 

In half an hour thereafter the good ship Decatur , with 
its addition of four persons, was stretching out into the 
Atlantic, headed for the west coast of Africa, while the 
little sloop Walter had abandoned was drifting lazily 
upon the waters. 

“ The Ranger has doubtless gone in that direction, or 
will as soon as Runnel returns to her,” said the commo- 
dore, after he had received a brief report from Walter, 
“ and it is upon the west coast that we must look for 
her.” 

Little did the commodore imagine what fateful 
events would grow out of the resolve thus taken ! 


— ■ » 

CHAPTER XXX. 

MOTHER AND SON. 

Great was the consternation of Arty Seaborn at the 
result of his intrusion upon the strange woman of the 
Cameroon mountains. 

“ I am a fool and a rascal,” he said to himself bitterly. 
“ What right had I to pursue her and burst in upon 
her in this manner ? I have killed her ! I have cer- 
tainly killed her !” 

Full of terrible self-reproaches and misgivings, he 
raised the lady’s head from the floor, and hastily bathed 
her face with the contents of a water-pitcher that stood 
upon a table near him. And as he thus occupied 
himself, he could not help remarking the noble cast of 
the pale features and the beauty of their outlines, 


254 


The Young Castaways. 


For several minutes the young man hardly dared to 
draw a long breath. His first dreadful conviction that 
the lady was dead still lingered, she lay so still, so 
inanimate, so utterly bereft of all the signs of life and 
feeling. But anon there came a contraction of sharp 
pain upon the pallid countenance, and at sight of it 
Arty babbled his joy. 

“ She lives !” he gasped. “ Perhaps I shall bring her 
around, after all.” 

He redoubled his exertions. 

His experiences in this line had been few, and in his 
nervous fear he proceeded with an awkwardness that 
was comical, fairly deluging the face and neck and hair 
of the sufferer with water, but he none the less 
covered the necessary field. Chafing the hands and 
wrists of the lady smartly, he soon had the satisfaction 
of hearing a prolonged moan from her. 

“ Yes, she’s coming to,” was his thought, with a sigh 
of relief that almost answered to the lady’s moan. 
“ And if I ever get out of this trouble, you’ll never 
catch me making such a fool of myself again J” 

Probably all promises of this sort to one’s self are 
absurdities, for the reason that no person can tell 
beforehand just how he will act in any given con- 
tingency, but the words may safely be accepted as 
proof that Arty was pretty thoroughly scared. 

The moan which had escaped the sufferer's white 
lips was soon followed by others, at constantly les- 
sening intervals, and at length she opened her eyes and 
made an effort to arise, while her eyes wandered around 
her in an eager search until they rested upon Arty. 

“ You are still here ?” she then gasped, with a look of 
ineffable relief. “ I feared you might have gone !” 

She clung to him as a drowning mariner clings to 
his plank of salvation. 


Mother and Son . 


255 


“ I beg pardon for my intrusion, Madam,” said Arty, 
as he assisted her to her feet, and placed her in a chair. 
“It was very wrong for me to pursue you and frighten 
you so. I was carried away by wonder and excitement. 
Forgive me for my folly !” 

“ There is nothing to forgive,” breathed the lady, as 
her eyes rested in fond and admiring affection upon the 
bright face before her. “ But I have everything in the 
world to be thankful for. Heaven has indeed been 
merciful. My prayers are at last strangely answered. 
Did you not say that you are Arty Seaborn ?” 

The youth bowed. 

“ And that you came to the west coast in the brig 
Buntmg ?” 

Arty bowed again. 

“ And are you not the same lad who lived with Blud- 
gett, the butcher, and who, more than five years ago, 
was sent adrift in a boat with your sister Elgie by a 
Mr. Spareman, with whom you were living ?” 

Once more Arty bowed, for the reason that language 
utterly failed him. 

And as he thus bowed, he found his head taken 
between the lady’s hands, a shower of wild kisses rained 
upon his lips and cheeks, and his whole form enclosed 
in the lady’s arms, with a fervor he had never deemed 
any other being than Elgie capable of feeling. 

“ My son ! my son !” was the glad cry with which 
those caresses were attended. “ At last I have found 
you ! My own and only boy ! can you not comprehend 
that I am your mother ?” 

Arty could not comprehend anything about it, for 
reasons that are patent, but as he looked into the tender 
and melting eyes before him, as he marked the ecstacy 
with which they rested upon him, and as he felt those 
fervent caresses, he conceived that he had every induce- 


256 


The Young Castaways. 


ment to take a great deal upon credit, and he responded 
in kind to the mysterious lady’s embraces and kisses. 

“ Yes, I am your own mother !” she said, as soon as 
she paused in her demonstrations, holding him at arm’s 
length from her, and surveying him with infinite ten- 
derness. 44 And you are my brave, noble boy — my first- 
born.” 

A single wild fear lingered in Arty’s soul, and he 
hastened to express it in these words : 

“ What if there should be some awful mistake ?” 

“ Oh, there is none !” 

44 You know that I am your son ?” 

44 1 know it beyond all doubt or possibility of error/ 
declared the lady, as her eyes welled over with tears of 
joy. 44 The proofs are all in my hands, as you may 
know by the names I have mentioned — Bludgett, Spare- 
man, and Elgie. I have a perfect evidence of your 
identity in the fact that you are the living image of 
your father.” 

The joy of Arty at these assurances was too great for 
expression. 

What rapture filled his soul ! 

At last she was before him — the mother of whom he 
had thought and dreamed so constantly during all his 
young years of desolation. 

And how like she was to his ideal, grand and stately, 
yet full of sweetness and tenderness, with a face that 
bore the trace of her long unrest and suffering, and 
was yet lighted up with all the radiance of a constant 
hopefulness and an unfailing trust in the mercies of 
Heaven ! 

How wildly his heart beat as he gazed upon her, 
taking home to his soul the sweet conviction that she 
was indeed his mother. 

44 Oh, mother ! mother !” burst impetuously from his 


Mother and Son. 


25 7 


lips, as he gathered her wasted form in his strong arms, 
and caressed her with renewed floods of rapturous feel- 
ing. “ What a joy this will be for Elgie ! How happy 
we shall all be !” 

“ I hope so, dear, and indeed it is time,” returned the 
lady, smiling through her tears. “ And now to tell you 
who your mother is. You haven’t the least informa- 
tion on this point, I suppose ?” 

“ Not the least, mother.” 

Already the sacred name came from his lips with as 
much grace as gladness. 

“ Then I must tell you briefly who I am, my dear bo} 7 . 
A strange position, is it not, for a mother to be obliged 
to introduce herself to her own son? Your father was 
the late Colonel Abner Hillston, of South Carolina^ and 
consequently your name is Hillston, as is mine !” 

It was indeed our old friend. Mrs. Hillston, as the 
reader has perceived, of course, whom Arty had so 
providentially encountered. 

“ Hillston ?” murmured the boy. “ I have never 
heard the name before in the world ! And how strange 
it is that I should hear it first from your lips ! My 
father is dead, then ?” 

“ Yes, Felix — ” 

“ What ! my name is Felix, mother ?” 

“Yes, your real name is Felix — Felix Hillston !” 

The boy repeated it with joyous pride. 

“ That is better than Arty Seaborn,” he commented, 
“ if for no other reason than thaHt is my real name. I 
was not born at sea, was I, mother ?” 

“ No, my dear boy, but at your father’s ancestral 
home near Charleston !” 

“ Then I shall throw all that Seaborn business over- 
board at once,” declared Felix, joyfully, “ and become 
known by mv real title.” 


258 The Young Castaways . 


“ That is right, my son. And now to enlighten you 
briefly in regard to your history. Your father was a 
wealthy and distinguished gentleman, of whom you 
have every reason to be proud. The first few years of 
my life with him were one long happiness. I had no 
wish he did not gratify, no hope he did not fulfill. But 
he and I had a terrible enemy — a man who sought me 
in marriage after my betrothal to your father, and who 
was such a knave and fool as to vow vengeance for my 
rejection of his suit. Your father and I were prepared 
to suffer at this man's hands, knowing well his capacity 
for baseness, but we did not for one moment foresee the 
awful form his revenge would take. Suffice it to say 
that he stole you and your twin sister the day you were 
two years old, and from that day to the day of his death 
your poor father never learned a word as to what had 
become of you !” 

“ And what was the name of this enemy, mother ?” 

“ Runnel— Grebb Runnel !” 

“ Not the slave-dealer who has such an unenviable 
notoriety upon these shores ?” 

“ The very same man !” 

“ But what are you doing here, mother ?” asked Felix 
with a swift glance at the prison-like walls around him. 

“ I am here as Runnel’s prisoner !” 

“ His prisoner ?” 

The boy’s eyes flashed fire as he repeated the word. 

“ Yes, Felix — as his prisoner ! He has kept me shut 
up here under lock and constant guard more than five 
years !” 

“ But how came you in his hands ?” 

“ About a year after your father’s death, my son, 
this man Runnel presented himself at my house, near 
Charleston, and told me that my children were still 
living, and that he would produce them if I would marry 


Mother and Son . 


259 


him. For your sake, and that of your sister, I consented 
to his terms, and he left me with the purpose of finding 
you and bringing you to me. But Spareman, in the 
meantime, had taken advantage of your running away 
to send you adrift — he acting upon previous instruction 
— and thus it happened that Runnel could not produce 
you. But a message came from Spareman, in due 
course, by telegraph, that you had been picked up by 
the Bunting of Salem, commanded by Captain Strong, 
and it was at once apparent that you would continue in 
the brig during the voyage upon which she had entered. 
It seemed wise and proper, therefore, for me to accept 
of Runnel’s offer to bring me here in a search for my 
lost ones. I came accordingly — but only to an awful 
disappointment. The Bunting did not arrive, and a long 
period of waiting succeeded. Runnel built this house 
for me, and left me to await discoveries. In time it 
came out that the Bunting had been seized by muti- 
neers, and that these ruffians had carried off my chil- 
dren. I would have made further search for you, but 
Runnel was just then pursuing me more earnestly than 
ever with his odious attentions, and in the end I had a 
violent scene with him. The result was that he shut 
me up closely, in the care of numerous minions, and 
here I have remained a prisoner from that day to 
this !” 

“ But you were miles from here, mother, when I met 
you to- night,’’ murmured Felix. 

“ Yes, my son. I had at last made my escape. Some 
sort of an alarm had been raised to-day in the valleys 
below — some sort of a war between contending forces 
— but of precisely what nature I do not know. This 
fighting has thrown the household here into great agi- 
tation and confusion, and the greater portion of my 
jailers have run away, descending to the valleys in 


2&0 


The Young Castaways . 


quest of information. Only one grim old negress has 
remained faithful to her trust, and she has fallen dead 
with apoplexy, or some similar disease, and thus the 
way to my escape has been opened.” 

She led the way to an inner door of the apartment, 
and indicated by a gesture a bulky figure, reposing there 
in the embraces of death. 

“ The instant she was dead,” resumed Mrs. Hillston, 
“ I took the key from her belt of this outer door, and at 
once set out upon a precipitous flight down the moun- 
tain paths, determined to gain the shore, or even to 
throw myself upon the protection of some native king, 
rather than to endure this dreadful captivity longer. 
Everything went off well enough until I met you, my 
son, and you spoke to me, when I gave myself up for 
lost, supposing you to be in the service of Runnel, and 
ready to execute the will of that villain. My only hope 
seemed to be in regaining my prison without being 
recognized, and this was the motive of my flight.” 

“ Oh, if I had known all !” sighed Felix, regretfully. 
“ This house belongs to Runnel, then ?” 

“ Yes, my son. It is even his home when his ship is 
in the neighborhood. He resides here while waiting 
for his cargoes of ebony wood, as he calls the poor 
blacks.” 

“ When do you expect him here again, mother ?” 

“ From one day to another. He may arrive at any 
moment. I supposed he had arrived when I saw you in 
my pathway to-night.” 

“ In this case, mother,” said Felix, arising, “ we had 
better be off. Are you strong enough to accompany 
me to the shore ?” 

“ Strong enough ? It seems to me that I could walk 
forever if my steps were accompanied by yours, and if 
they but led me from him,” 


Mother and Son . 


261 


“ Then let’s be off at once,” proposed Felix, as he 
placed his pistol in readiness for prompt service. “ Is 
there anything you would take away with you ?” 

“ Only a few trinkets — trifles of other days and of our 
former home.” 

The preparations for departure were soon made. 

“ There are no other persons than ourselves upon the 
mountains, I suppose, mother ?” 

“ Not a soul, in all probability !” 

“ Then there can be no danger in lighting our way 
with the lantern I see on the shelf yonder !” 

“ Not the least !” 

“ Then may Heaven bear us company !” 

“ Amen, my son !” 

A moment later the couple had emerged from the 
prison-house, and had taken the first of the paths lead- 
ing to the sea. Arm in arm — the one in clinging 
tenderness, the other in strong protection — they pur- 
sued their devious and perilous way with souls too full 
of joy for utterance. They both felt and knew that 
they were treading the holiest of routes — the route 
which leads from sorrow to gladness ! 

“ Elgie awaits us there,” breathed Felix at length, in 
a quavering voice, as a light suddenly flashed upon his 
gaze from a point miles ahead of him. “ What a joy is 
about to come upon her !” 

Thus they went on together, the strangely reunited 
mother and son, after all the years of desolation a hor- 
rible villainy had caused them ! And then and there 
they knew,. as all know the glorious truth sooner or later, 
that the Great Master of Heaven takes daily and hourly 
action among the children of men ! 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

EXPECTED AND AWAITED ! 

“ Steady, yon lubber ! 

The voice was that of Captain Grebb Runnel, raised 
to its sharpest tension. The time was early morning. 

“ Steady it is, sir !” came the answer from the man at 
the wheel. 

“ And mind that you pay no more such close calls to 
the sandbanks on each side of us,” added Runnel, 
sternly. “ There is room enough here, if you will use 
it. After the extraordinary run we have had from the 
West Indies, I have no intention of allowing you to 
spoil all by your carelessness. Steady !” 

The command was again answered by the man at the 
wheel, and the Ranger continued to glide like some 
giant bird up the still river. 

A long silence followed on the part of Runnel, who 
was pacing to and fro upon the deck of the clipper, 
with strides resembling those of a wolf eager for his 
prey. 

“It is no slight feat to have beaten that infernal 
frigate in such weather as we have had, Quimby,” he 
at length said to his executive. 

“ But are you sure we have beaten her, sir ?” 

“ As sure as I am that I see you before me,” declared 
[262] 


Expected and Awaited ! 


263 


Runnel, emphatically. “ It was the Decatur that we saw 
struggling in the squall, hull down, just before dark 
yesterday — I would stake my life upon the fact — and 
she is still somewhere behind us. And here is where 
the little joke comes in, Quimby, for if I don’t prepare 
a warm reception for somebody aboard of that craft, in 
case of their setting foot in my 4 free and far dominions,* 
you may call me a liar.” 

“ But how do you know that Lieut. Trumbull and the 
fair bride, that is to be, are aboard of the frigate ?” 

“ Didn’t I tell you ? It is because they were seen to 
go aboard of her by some turtle-hunters, who knew 
my little sloop — the same so jauntily abandoned. I 
thought I mentioned the circumstances.” 

“ No, you didn’t, but the fact is it is just as good now 
as if I had been informed of it sooner,” declared 
Quimby, who seemed a worthy mate for Run- 
nel, being the beau ideal of a ruffian. “ And so the 
young couple are aboard of the frigate, and she at our 
heels ?” 

“ Yes, Quimby — so near that I hardly expected to 
slip into the river before she would see me. But the 
point is made, and it will go hard with me if I do not 
contrive to give that lieutenant and the girl a surprise 
of no common order. How far to the creek now, 
Quimby ?” 

“ About half a mile, sir.” 

“ Will the wind last us ? I see it is failing.” 

“ We shall have enough of it for our purpose,” 
declared the executive, after holding up his hand a 
moment. “ Within twenty minutes at the latest we 
shall be at the inlet.” 

The result proved the justice of these expectations. 
At the end of the period named, the clipper was steered 
into a deep and narrow inlet, at right angles with the 


264 


The Young Castaways. 


river, and along this inlet it proceeded about two hun- 
dred yards, then coming to anchor. 

In this situation she was not merely invisible from the 
sea, but was so snugly enveloped and screened by the 
surrounding hills that any one would have had to 
cross the mouth of the inlet to see her. 

“ And now to cover the upper masts and yards with 
bushes,” said Runnel. “The boys can attend to this 
matter, Quimby, while you and I make ready for our 
little expedition.” 

He led the way to the cabin. 

Twenty minutes later, when the two men reappeared 
upon the clipper's deck, they seemed to have been 
transported to the midst of a forest, so completely had 
the large crew of the vessel robed her in bushes, and 
especially everything about the main-top. 

“ A good job,” commented Runnel, as he stowed a 
brace of pistols in his belt, and slung upon his arm a 
basket of provisions. “ Secure your best glass, Quimby 
— come !” 

A boat was in the water astern, and the two men 
quietly descended into it. 

“ We will row ourselves,” said Runnel to his second 
mate, as that personage looked inquiringly down upon 
him. “ Fact is, we are only going a dozen rods or so 
by water — to the foot of the bluff seaward. The bulk 
of our expedition is to be performed on land. Keep 
everything snug in my absence, and don’t let a mother’s 
son loose until you have orders to that effect. The 
simple truth is, you may be assailed in force by the 
cursed enemies before night.” 

Nodding assent to the commands laid upon him, the 
second mate turned away to his duties, while Runnel 
and his executive seized the oars and rowed briskly 
away to the spot he had mentioned. 


Expected and Awaited ! 


265 


“ We will leave the boat here,” said the arch -villain, 
leaping ashore. “ She will be perfectly safe in this con- 
cealment, especially as the spot is visible from the 
cliffs !” 

Securing the craft to a bush, Runnel led the way up 
the steep bank, still carrying his basket of provisions. 

“ The first point in view,” he muttered, “ is to reach 
the very top of this ridge, so as to be able to see a sail 
from any quarter the moment it appears upon the 
horizon.” 

“ You are going to your old look-out, then ?” 

“Yes, Quimby — to our old look-out. I know of no 
more sightly spot upon the whole coast !” 

For a long time the two men toiled upwards and 
onwards in silence. It was not until the Ranger , in her 
snug nest, had dwindled to a mere speck behind them, 
that the least halt was made. 

“We’d better divide the climb into two,” Runnel then 
muttered, as he threw himself upon the ground. “ I 
am not particularly wasted, to be sure, but I mean to 
keep myself in as good heart as a tiger in his native 
jungles.” 

“ You are flattering yourself,” laughed Quimby, as he 
imitated the example of his superior. 

“ Or is it the tiger that is flattered ?” returned Runnel, 
with a smile that laid bare his white teeth. “ The truth 
is, Quimby, I feel that an auspicious hour is dawning, 
and that kind fate is about to play into my hands more 
pleasantly than ever !” 

He cherished this conviction in silence a few minutes, 
while resting from his arduous toils, and then resumed 
his way up the steep declivities which still continued to 
rise before him. 

But at length the last of the tall crests was surmounted 
and the couple reached a small plateau, from which they 


266 


The Young Castaways , 


had an unobstructed view in every direction, and espe- 
cially for many leagues away upon the blue waters. 

“ By heavens ! there she is !” cried Runnel, the 
instant he turned his eyes seaward. “ There she is, 
Quimby, there she is !” 

“Your sight is good,” smiled the executive, as he 
looked in the direction indicated and set about unpack- 
ing his glass. 

“ Yours would be if sharpened with such thirst for 
vengeance as mine is,” declared Runnel, in a voice husky 
with savage delight. “ But take a look for yourself and 
report.” 

The executive leveled his glass a full minute on the 
westward horizon, and then muttered : 

“ She is indeed the frigate !” 

“ I should have known her,” affirmed Runnel, “if she 
had looked no larger than the wing of a humming-bird. 
There’s nothing like revenge to sharpen one’s eyesight 
or hearing. And now to sit down here, like a spider in 
his web, and await events.” 

“ It’s a long wait, I am thinking,” said Quimby, as he 
threw himself upon the ground. “ The frigate won’t be 
up with the shore within two hours or more.” 

“ It matters little when she arrives,” declared Runnel, 
jubilantly. “ The essential is to watch her as a cat 
watches a mouse, and improve the first opening for 
business. You are aware that the commodore is a polite 
man ?” 

“Oh, very polite,” returned Quimby, laughingly, 
“ and especially to you. He has long paid you, it seems 
to me, the most particular attentions !” 

“’Yes, curse him, and he will have to continue them 
a long time before he catches me napping. But I did 
not refer to his long and close hunt for me. What I 
meant was that he always has somebody around him 


Expected and Azvaited! 


267 


whom he is anxious to entertain. In this case it will 
doubtless be the girl. The lieutenant is a favorite with 
his superior, of course, if for no other reason than ‘ the 
perils he has passed/ and it will be the most natural 
thing in the world for the commodore to give the 
couple an airing ashore. The Cameroons are perfectly 
healthy, you know, and there are some very curious 
spots to visit at their base, such as Pirate’s Island, the 
Bay of Amboises, and the like !” 

“ Well, if such should be the case, Captain,” said the 
executive, musingly, “ there’ll be such a crowd of them 
come ashore, that you and I will be a decided minority 
— too feeble to make the least swoop !” 

“ Don’t you believe that,” returned Runnel, grimly. 
“ Where there is a pair of lovers in the case, especially 
after a long confinement on shipboard, there is sure to 
be a prompt solitude, if all creation were in the offing. 
Don’t you see, Quimby ? But of course you don’t, for 
you were never in love !” 

“ And I never wish to be — saving your presence,” 
growled Quimby. “ But if I ever do fall in love with a 
woman, I’ll take her by the throat, if needs be, until 
she has married me, and then she may go to the deuce, 
for after marriage the whole crazy charm of the busi- 
ness is broken, it seems to me, and nothing more 
remains for the two fond hearts but to get quit of each 
other and be happy.” 

Runnel laughed until he cried at this new view of 
courtship, but the hard and grim expression of feature 
with which he had set out upon the morning’s expedi- 
tion was not long in coming back to his face. 

“ She comes up rapidly,” he muttered, as he again 
turned his eyes upon the approaching frigate. “At 
this rate she will be at anchor within a couple of hours.” 

The result proved how well the intelligent villain 


268 


The Young Castaways . 


had calculated the conditions in which the frigate was 
making the land, for it was precisely two hours after 
that remark was made that the cruiser reached her 
chosen berth and paused in her swift flight. 

“And now look sharp with your glass, Quimby,” 
enjoined Runnel. “ Stay ! let me have hold of it 
myself. If all the movement I have noticed aboard the 
ship during the last half hour does not signify some- 
thing I shall be greatly mistaken !” 

The deeply-absorbed villain had scarcely placed the 
glass to his eye, when he uttered a wild ejaculation of 
joy. 

“ It is as I foresaw/' he muttered. “ A boat is coming 
ashore !" 

“ That signifies very little," returned Quimby. “ The 
boat is of very little account, or its trip ashore either. 
The only thing that can give any point to the business 
is — who is in it ?" 

Runnel uttered another wild cry — a cry resembling 
the roar of some wild animal about to dart on its prey. 

“ The girl and the lieutenant are both coming," he 
cried, dancing about like a madman. “And now to 
prepare for their reception !" 

And it was with a face like that of a demon that 
Runnel thus awaited the arrival of his intended victims. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 
runnel’s unmasking. 

Runnel was still striding to and fro upon his lofty 
post of observation when a herculean negro, of a sinis- 
ter cast of countenance, suddenly presented himself in 
a state of great agitation. 

“It’s you, eh, Quabby ?” was Runnel’s greeting. 

The black dropped upon his knees, showing the 
whites of his eyes to a vast extent in his terror. 

“ It’s not my fault !” he said. 

Runnel looked at him in astonishment, but with a 
quick uneasiness. 

“ What is not 3rour fault ?” 

“ Mimmy is dead !” 

“ Dead ? Mimmy ? How did it happen ?" 

“ Dead same as Maum Blacky — all in a heap !” 

Runnel comprehended that the female jailer he had 
left in charge of Mrs. Hillston had died suddenly. As 
indicated by the words of the black, Maum Blacky, the 
old sorceress, who had accompained Mrs. Hillston from 
Charleston, had died of heart-disease or apoplexy two 
years before. 

“ And so Mimmy is dead ?” commented Runnel, with- 
out any particular feeling. “ Well, let her die, since we 
can’t help it. We must all come to it sooner or later !” 

“ But white woman gone !” continued the black, more 
excitedly than ever. 


269 



270 


The Young Castaways . 


Runnel started violently. 

“ Mrs. -Hillston gone ?” he muttered. 

“ Yes, escaped.” 

The slave-dealer repeated the word with an oath too 
horrible to record. 

“ Aud how did she escape ?” he demanded, as soon as 
he could partially calm himself. 

“ Mimmy drop down dead, and then the white woman 
take key and escape.” 

“ But where were the rest of you ?” 

“We had gone down to the valley on account of the 
fighting.” 

“ Fighting ? What fighting ?” 

The black explained, giving a distorted account of 
the warfare in which Captain Strong had figured, as 
related. 

The rage of Runnel was for a few moments so savage 
as to choke his utterance. 

“ And so Mrs. Hillston has escaped ?” he finally mut- 
tered, as much to himself as to his executive. “ When 
did she escape, Quabby ?” 

“ Some time in the night — long after dark.” 

Runnel drew a sigh of relief. 

“ Then all is not so bad as it might be,” he muttered. 
“ Mrs. Hillston has never had a chance to get acquainted 
with the country round her. She cannot have gone far 
in the darkness. Some precipice would soon bring her 
to a halt, and perhaps break her neck. I do not believe 
she has descended from the mountains, or that she will 
readily. Doubtless she is still wandering somewhere 
among them.” 

Turning to his black messenger, he gave him directions 
to scour the mountains in every direction at the head of 
all the blacks he could assemble, and then dismissed him. 

“And now to pursue more important game,” said 


Runnel' s Unmasking. 


271 


Runnel, turning to his executive. “ The boat has left 
the frigate, I see, and is making for the land. Let’s 
descend to the neighborhood where it is likely to touch 
shore, and be ready for business.” 

Acting upon this proposition, the two men were soon 
in concealment not far from the beach towards which 
the boat was directly headed. 

“ We shall have them,” muttered Runnel with a wild 
chuckle, as he passed his hand over the numerous con- 
cealed weapons. “ We shall have them.” 

“ What is your programme ?” 

“ To kill the lieutenant on the spot, of course, and take 
the girl prisoner.” 

“The work’s simple enough,” commented the exec- 
utive, “ but we shall have to be favored to execute it. 
That is to say, the young couple will have to be pounced 
upon when they are some distance from their compan- 
ions.” 

“ Oh, we shall get the chance !” affirmed Runnel hus- 
kily, as he smiled grimly. “ Lovers are solitary animals, 
and this couple will soon be wandering by themselves.” 

“You must be sure that there is no mistake in their 
identity,” suggested the executive. 

“ Sure !” repeated Runnel, lowering the glass from his 
eye. “ I can recognize them from here. Curiously 
enough, the old commodore is not in the party — no one 
of any consequence as I can see. The trip ashore seems 
to be for the benefit of the young couple entirely — or 
rather for mine.” 

It was indeed our young friends, Ida Runnel and 
Lieut. Walter Trumbull, who now landed upon the 
beach, and began sauntering along its shore together, 
engaged in such sweet converse as to pay very little 
attention to anything around them. 


272 


The Young Castaways . 


“ They will doubtless come this way/' muttered the 
executive, after watching them a moment. 

“ Yes, they are coming !" 

The couple were indeed crossing the long stretch of 
sandy beach, and directing their steps towards the 
inviting shadows in which their murderous enemy was 
awaiting them. 

A few minutes later, seated upon a mossy bank, under 
a giant tree, in the midst of such foliage that they were 
entirely cut off from the view of the boat's crew and 
their other friends, the young couple were merrily 
reviewing the voyage thus accomplished. 

“ It has been very pleasant," said Walter. 

“ Very," returned Ida. 

“Without a single drawback." 

“ With only sunshine and brightness." 

The lieutenant moved nearer to his lovely companion, 
while his handsome countenance became illuminated 
with an unwonted radiance. 

“ Then why should we not accept this voyage as typi- 
cal of a greater one offered us ?" he murmured. “ Let 
us embark upon the great voyage of life together. Will 
you not become my wife ?" 

“ I would gladly, Walter," answered the girl, without 
a moment’s hesitation, “ were it not for this great mys- 
tery which rests upon me. Would it be right for me to 
assent to your generous proposal ? Who am I ? What 
is my parentage ?" 

“ All those questions are not really vital," returned 
Walter, earnestly. “ I love you for yourself alone. As 
to your fear that there may be something dark or 
shameful in your origin, dismiss it forever. I do not 
believe there is the least occasion for any fear of the 
kind. Whatever may be the nature of the cloud 
enveloping you, there is not the least hope of our 


Runners Unmasking. 


2 73 


ever being able to clear up the mystery. Runnel 
alone knows your real history, and it is unlikely 
that you will ever see him again, and still more unlikely 
that he would ever reveal to you the secret.” 

At this instant there was a swift rush of footsteps 
behind the couple — a movement that startled them — 
but they had not time to protect themselves against it*. 
A stout knife gleamed against the breast of Walter 
Trumbull, who sank in a mass to the ground, lying as 
silent as a stone. At the same instant Ida found a vise- 
like grasp encircling her throat, and was raised bodily 
from the ground by several stout hands and arms, and 
borne rapidly away into the depths of the forest. 

A few brief moments she struggled violently, and 
then, as her horrified gaze fell upon the inflamed coun- 
tenance of Runnel, she swooned away into utter uncon- 
sciousness. 

When she recovered her senses, she was seated upon 
a mossy bank near a spring, in the depths of a thick 
tropical jungle, far away from the sea, and even far 
beyond the roar of its breakers. 

Her head and face were dripping wet, having been 
freely bathed. 

Runnel and his companions sat beside her — the for- 
mer as repulsive of mien as a demon. 

“ So we meet again, Miss ?” queried the miscreant, 
mockingly. 

The girl did not reply. She was not merely realizing 
into whose hands she had fallen, but the absence of 
Walter and all that absence signified. 

“To the contrary of the views you have lately 
expressed,” continued Runnel, “ I am ready to give 
you complete details in regard to your origin and 
history !” 


The Young Castaways . 


274 


The agonized girl rocked her trembling frame 
swiftly to and fro. 

“ It does not matter now what my origin was,” she 
returned. “ Oh, monster ! monster ! you have killed 
Walter ! And to think that I have so long regarded 
you as my father !” 

Runnel laughed aloud. 

“ Every one is liable to their little mistakes,” he 
muttered. “ But I have made none in regard to that 
infamous traitor who attempted to betray me to Uncle 
Sam’s cruisers. The hour has come for plain speak- 
ing between us, girl ! You shall not merely know 
who and what you are, but what is the fate before you !” 

The girl was still silent, but made a gesture signify- 
ing that she did not care for anything he was able or 
willing to tell her. 

“Your real name is Hillston,” began the ruffian, 
“ and you are the daughter of that Mrs. Hillston whose 
supposed drowning, after wandering from her home in 
the delirium of a fever, produced such great excitement 
in Charleston five years ago. I remember that a 
Charleston paper of the time strayed into your hands, 
and that you were greatly interested in the business. 
Well, Miss, I stole you and your brother from your 
home near Charleston, when you and he were two 
years old. I stole you because I had sworn to have a 
dreadful revenge upon your accursed parents.” 

Ida made no reply to these declarations, but she fol- 
lowed them closely. 

“ And now mark what a trap I set for those par- 
ents of yours,” continued Runnel, with an infernal 
laugh. “ To mix and confuse things, to prevent your 
parents from ever untangling the web I was weaving, 
even if their infernal detectives should succeed in 
overhauling me, I stole at the same time another 


Runnel } s Unmasking. 


275 


little girl of precisely your own age, and this second 
little girl I shipped to the North from New Orleans 
with your brother, with a view to letting them grow up 
together under the mistaken impression that they were 
brother and sister." 

Ida was all attention now. A plot so truly infernal 
could not have failed to startle her from even the wild 
lethargy of sorrow into which she had fallen. 

“ Your brother and the pretended sister thus supplied 
him," resumed Runnel, “were shipwrecked near Bos- 
ton, and were reared in humble and obscure poverty 
upon the coast near that metropolis, under the names 
of Arty and Elgie Seaborn. Afterwards, at the end of 
a series of events I need not detail, they went adrift in 
a boat, and were picked up by a Salem trader, the brig 
Bunting, and carried to the west coast of Africa. What 
became of them I do not know. I only know that the 
Bunting fell into the hands of a gang of mutineers, and 
that the young couple dropped out of sight into some 
mysterious oblivion. 

“ So much for your brother and his pretended sister, 
Miss Ida. Now for yourself. 

“ It seemed to me another good feature in the case 
for me to rear you as my own daughter. I accordingly 
took you to that out-of-the-way island in the West 
Indies, engaging Althie and Marcos and Matty to take 
charge of you, and at the same time instructing Althie 
not to let you escape. My intention was simple. In 
due course I could throw off my paternal character and 
appear in that of a lover. Not having been able to 
marry your mother, I could thus secure the subtle 
revenge of marrying her daughter — so much her supe- 
rior in youth and beauty. Ha, ha ! was it not gloriously 
done ? And to give a crowning joy to my vengeance, I 
have had your mother a close prisoner in my hands all 


276 


The Young Castaways . 


these years, awaiting the hour when I could make you 
my wife and take you into her presence and say to her : 
‘ Woman, behold your daughter !’ You see, Miss Ida, 
that I have lived and toiled for a truly gigantic 
revenge ! ” 

The villain had reached this point of his vile confi- 
dences, when there was a sudden stir in the bushes 
immediately behind him. 

“ What's that ?” he cried, leaping to his feet and grasp- 
ing a concealed weapon. 

A quick, sharp report of musketry was the answer. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE HOUR OF RECOMPENSE. 

The terror which gradually entered the soul of Elgie 
Seaborn, as she paced to and fro upon the deck of the 
Bunting , awaiting the return of Arty and Captain Strong, 
was too great for expression. 

What had become of them ? Why did they not 
return ? 

It was in vain that the officers and men of the brig 
endeavored to comfort her. She had one answer for 
every consolation offered her. 

“ I know that something is wrong,” she declared, “ or 
Arty would not leave me in this awful suspense. This 
African Jack is like some of the other chiefs Captain 
Strong has been dealing with, no doubt. Both Arty 
and Captain Strong have been murdered !” 

As often as she gave way to this dreadful conviction, 
her tears flowed freely, of course. 


The Hour of Recompense . 


277 


Hour after hour she thus paced to and fro upon the 
deck of the brig, sending many a wistful glance shore- 
wards, and often pausing in her walk to listen for some 
sounds of the longed-for return, such as the flashing 
of oars, but all in vain. The silence in which they had 
vanished remained unbroken. 

We need not linger upon the agonies of the poor girl 
during that long and anxious night. Not once did she 
enter the cabin. Not once did she endeavor to compose 
herself to sleep. She felt that her very life was bound 
up in Arty, and that she would have nothing in the 
world to live for if any of the great calamities which 
kept suggesting themselves to her had really befallen 
him. 

With the first gleams of day she was doing what she 
had done during the long hours of darkness — looking 
intently shoreward through a glass for some sign of the 
absent ones. 

“ Oh, where can they be ?” was still her wild and 
despairing cry. 

“There is one consolation' for us,” said the mate of 
the brig, Mr. Conway, who had long been standing by 
her side, pitying her and sharing her distress. “ One 
of the war-ships of the United States is coming up 
rapidly from the westward, and — ” 

“ A war-ship !” breathed Elgie, with the first gleam 
of hope in her eyes that had been seen in them for 
hours. 

“ A first-class frigate,’' continued Conway, “ and if I 
am not greatly mistaken, she is the Decatur , the flag- 
ship of Commodore Paulding — that is to say, one of the 
most active of the cruisers employed upon this station.” 

“ It is certainly a ship-of-war,” murmured the girl, 
after she had looked at the approaching sail attentively, 


278 


The Young Castaways . 


“ and she is coming this way — almost directly toward 
us. Can we signal her, Mr. Conway ?” 

“ I think she will anchor within a quarter of a mile of 
us,” declared the mate. “ This is one of the Decatur s 
favorite stopping-places. She is now, doubtless, from 
the other side, and will water hereabouts and get aboard 
fresh provisions, as is her custom.” 

“ Then I know what I shall do, Mr. Conway,” declared 
the girl, with grave emphasis. “ I shall, call upon the 
commodore as soon as his ship is anchored.” 

“ What ! You ?” 

“ Yes, / — to tell him what has happened to Arty and 
Capt. Strong, and ask him to send some one of his men 
to find them.” 

It was in vain that Mr. Conway suggested sundry 
objections to this line of conduct. Our } 7 oung heroine 
was determined in her purpose. 

“ After all, perhaps you are right,” he admitted, after 
a further talk with her. “ It can certainly do no harm 
for us to inform the commodore of this prolonged 
absence, and it may do a great deal of good.” 

“ Then you will take me to the commodore’s ship, 
Mr. Conway ?” 

“ I certainly will — if the captain does not return 
before the frigate is at her old anchorage !” 

We need not pause upon the long and anxious watch 
that followed this conversation. Dividing her time 
between the shore and the frigate, the anxious girl 
awaited developments, in a frame of mind we will not 
attempt to reveal. No sign of her missing friends was 
vouchsafed her, but the frigate came up to her berth 
with all the speed of a fine and favoring breeze. 

“It is the Decatur /” exclaimed Conway, as soon as 
the ship-of-war showed her side to him. “ And as I see 
that she is preparing to anchor, I will get out a boat at 


The Hour of Recompense. 279 


once, and board her within five minutes after her anchor 
touches the bottom !” 

For the first time in an hour Elgie drew a long breath 
at this assurance, 

“ Oh, if you will !” she sighed. 

“ I certainly will, for the reason that I don’t know 
what else to do,” declared Conway. “ I agree with you 
now that there is something wrong in this long absence 
of Arty and Captain Strong !” 

The boat was soon lowered and manned. Giving a 
few cares to her toilet, so as to make herself look as 
well as possible to the eyes of the commodore, Elgie 
took her place in the frail craft, and it was rowed 
swiftly away toward the frigate, which was just coming 
to anchor. 

It thus happened that Elgie arrived alongside the 
frigate within three minutes after Ida Runnel and her 
lover had left it — the one boat arriving on one side of 
the ship, and the second departing shore wards from the 
other. 

“ What do you want?” called a marine, looking down 
upon the new-comers. 

“ A rope, first of all,” answered Conway. 

A rope was flung to him. He seized it deftly, and the 
boat was soon fast to the frigate. 

“ And now I want to see the commodore just as soon 
as I can,” announced Elgie, as she arose in the boat and 
glanced up the frowning side of the ship. 

“ Oh ! you do ?” queried the marine, smiling 

The commodore himself heard that sweet voice below 
him, and his curiosity was at once aroused. Stepping 
to the gangway, he looked down inquiringly upon his 
visitors. 

“ If you please, sir,” said Conway, removing his cap, 


28 o 


The Young Castaways . 


“ here is a young lady in great distress, who wishes to 
see you.’’ 

The commodore took one good look at the sweet 
girlish face upturned to him, and then, with a quick 
start of surprise and interest, made a gesture to an officer 
standing near him. The steps were at once lowered, 
and in a few moments thereafter, with the aid of sundry 
helping hands, Elgie stood upon the deck of the frigate. 

“And so, my little girl, you wish to see me , do you ?” 
asked the commodore, as he advanced to meet her, 
regarding her with a strange intentness. “ What in the 
world can I do for you ?” 

“ Oh, if you please, sir,” began the girl, in a great 
agitation, “ Arty and Captain Strong have been ashore 
all night, when they intended to be gone only for an 
hour — ” She paused for want of breath. 

“ And who is Arty, my dear, and who is Captain 
Strong ?” asked the commodore. “ Or, rather, to begin 
at the beginning, who are you?'' 

“ I am Elgie Seaborn, sir,” announced the girl, with'a 
pretty assumption of dignity. 

“Elgie Seaborn?” muttered the commodore. “An 
odd name, is it not, my dear ?” 

“Oh, I don’t know my real name, sir,” declared Elgie. 

•“Not know your real name ?” cried the commodore, 
with a greater start than he had given at first sight of 
the girl. “ Why, how is that ?” 

“ I was cast ashore when I was a baby, sir, and nobody 
knows where I came from, nor what is my real name, 
nor who were my parents, nor — ” 

“ Hold, child !” exclaimed the commodore, stepping 
briskly toward her. “ What is that upon your neck ?” 

“ A locket, sir !” 

“ A locket !” and the eyes of the commodore seemed 
to devour the trinket. “ Where did you get it ?” 


The Hour of Recompense. 


281 


“ I don’t know, sir ! It was on my neck when I was 
shipwrecked ever so many years ago !” 

“ Good Heavens ! Let me see it !” 

The girl hastily detached the bauble from her neck, 
and the commodore as hastily seized it, regarding it 
with a most fixed and surprising interest. 

“ The same ! the very same !” he cried, his whole 
frame shaking with a profound agitation. “ How long 
have you had it ?” 

“ Ever since I was a baby, sir ! It was on my neck 
when I was shipwrecked — when I was only two years 
old !” 

“ It is the very same !” exclaimed the commodore, as 
the trinket shook in his grasp. “ See here, child ! I 
know this locket well ! See here ! see here !” 

Touching a secret spring, the locket flew open, dis- 
closing a secret compartment in which a picture, all 
faded and worn from the action of sea-water and other- 
wise, but still enough like the commodore to have 
readily passed for his present picture. 

. “ You see all !” he cried. “ That was my own picture ! 
And this is a locket — the very same locket — which, 
fifteen years ago, in New Orleans, I attached to the 
neck of my little niece Eva, the very week before she 
vanished so mysteriously and was supposed to have 
been drowned in the river.” 

“ Your little niece?” questioned Elgie, as she turned 
her large eyes wonderingly upon the commodore. 

In an instant his arms were around her, and she was 
drawn in a close embrace to his bosom. 

“ And I can swear that you are that same little girl,” 
he declared. “ You are the very image of your mother. 
You are my niece, my bright little darling, and won’t 
it be the happiest hour of my life when I can place you 
in the arms of your mother !” 


202 


The Yoicng Castaways . 


The girl did not for one moment vex herself with 
doubts in the premises. In her romantic way, she had 
long looked forward to some such development of the 
mystery of her life, and she now accepted the commo- 
dore’s views of the matter, returning his caresses and 
accepting at once the place he had so promptly assigned 
her. 

But even in the gladness of that moment she did not 
forget the business w T hich had brought her to the fri- 
gate. 

“We must go at once for Arty,” she said. 

“ And who is Arty, I say ?” 

“ I will tell you as we go along, sir, to save time.” 

“Oh, very well, my dear niece,” said the commodore, 
smiling indulgently. “I shall comply with all your 
wishes of course.” 

A boat was soon in readiness, and the commodore 
himself took the post of honor in it, placing the girl 
immediately in front of him. 

“ And where to, my young pilot ?” he then asked. 

Elgie pointed out the precise point of the coast where 
Arty and Capt. Strong had landed on the preced- 
ing evening, and announced that she wished to land 
there. 

“ Oh, very well,” said the commodore. “ How strik- 
ing ! how very remarkable !” 

“ What, sir ?” 

“Your resemblance to your mother, child. Won’t 
she be as astonished as delighted to see you ! She has 
long supposed you to have been drowned. Her name, 
like yours, is Eva — Eva Paulding.” 

The boat was already flying shoreward rapidly, the 
commodore having made a gesture to his men while 
speaking. 

“ And now tell me, child, all about Arty.” 


The Hour of Recompense . 


283 


The girl blushed in sweet confusion. 

“ A word in your ear, Uncle Commodore — if you 
should really prove to be my uncle.” 

“Oh, I will take the risk of that,” returned the old 
sea-lion, patting her curly head. “ I know you are my 
brother’s lost daughter. But what is the word in ques- 
tion ?” 

“ Simply that I shall marry Arty — since there is no 
other relation between us.” 

“ Oh, indeed. Then you had better hasten to tell me 
all about him.” 

The girl acted upon the hint. 

But the boat was still at quite a distance from the 
shore when a large groiip of persons was seen advanc- 
ing from the cover of the neighboring forest. 

“Oh, there is Arty now !” cried Elgie. “And Capt. 
Strong, too. And oh, so many people !” 

“ Then your fears for them are all groundless ?” 

“ It seems so, sir. But there is a lady with Arty, and 
there is another lady close behind him — ” 

“ Yes, that second lady, my child, is a Miss Ida Run- 
nel, who has just come in my ship from the West Indies. 
Did you not see her go ashore just before you came 
alongside ?” 

“ Yes, I did, sir. But who is that with her ?” 

“ That young man upon whose arm she is leaning,” 
said the commodore, “is Lieutenant Walter Trumbull, 
a young friend of mine, whom I have recommended for 
promotion, but who has already recommended himself 
so well to the young lady that I believe they are engaged 
to be married !” 

The boat had now reached the beach, with many 
wavings of joyous signals. Before Elgie could get 
ashore, Arty came rushing to meet her, with his counte- 
nance aflame with joy. 


284 


The Young Castaways . 


“ Oh, Elgie !” he shouted, “ I have found my mother, 
and you are not my sister at all, but this young lady 
is.” And he indicated Ida Runnel. 


All the necessary explanations were soon given and 
taken. It turned out that Arty and Mrs. Hillston had 
encountered Captain Strong and his party, and that all 
of them had been concealed near the spring in the forest 
at the instant when Runnel was making his jubilant 
revelations to Ida. It also turned out that Walter 
Trumbull had been stunned, not killed, on the occasion 
of the murderous assault upon him, the knife of the 
assassin having encountered the buckle in his belt. It 
further appeared that Captain Strong and his party had 
fired the volley which killed Runnel and his associate, 
at the close of the villainous revelations. And it now 
only remains for me to say that the union of two happy 
couples, who afterward enlivened the Decatur , and 
ushered them upon a career of happiness which not 
merely endures to this day, but is daily becoming 
grander and brighter. 


THE END. 


BERYL’S HUSBAND 


BY 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis. 

Author of u Lady Kildare ,” “ Sundered Hearts ,” “ Het 
Double Life” etc . 


WITH NUMEROUS FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY G. A. TRAVER. 

Paper Cover, 50 cents. Bound in Cloth, $1.00. 


A very charming story. It opens on the shores of Lake Leman, 
in the romantic city of Geneva, under the shadow of Mont Blanc. 
A young English girl, who has been educated at a boarding- 
school at Vevay, is suddenly left without natural guardians and 
means of support. Her beauty and interesting character attract 
a young English traveller, who induces her to run away with him 
and marry him. This is the beginning of a romantic novel of 
extraordinary vicissitudes and adventures. To give an analysis 
of the plot and situations would mar the interest of the reader. 
It is sufficient to say that it is equal to the best of Mrs. Lewis’s 
novels, not excepting “Her Double Life” and “Lady Kildare.” 

F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York 


THE IMPROVISATORE; 

OR, 

LIFE IN ITALY. 


TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH OF 

Hans Christian Andersen, 

By MARY HOWITT. 

ILLUSTRATED BY BARRY C. EDWARDS. 

12mo. Bound in Cloth, $1.00. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


This is an entrancing romance dealing with the classic scenes 
of Italy. To those who desire to behold with their own eyes 
those scenes, it will create a fresh spring of sentiment, and fill 
them with unspeakable longing. To those who have visited the 
fair and memory-haunted towers and towns of Florence, Rome 
and Naples, it will revive their enthusiasm and refresh their 
knowledge. Andersen published this novel immediately after 
his return from Italy, and it created an extraordinary effect. 
Those who had depreciated the author’s talent came forward 
voluntarily and offered him their homage. It is a work of such 
singular originality and beauty that no analysis or description 
could do it justice, and the universal admiration which it at once 
excited has caused it to be read and reread throughout the world. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. Wiluam and Spruce Streets, New York. 


A CAPITAL AMERICAN STORY. 


UNDER A CLOUD. 

BY JEAN KATE LUDLUM, 

Author of “ Under Oathf etc . 

ILLUSTRATED BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 

12mo. 300 Pages. "With Numerous Illustrations. Handsomely 
Bound in Cloth, Price, $1.00. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


It was once asked by a celebrated Englishman : “ Who reads 
an American Book?” The question is no longer a conundrum. 
American books are the popular reading of the present day. 
“ Under a Cloud” is a spirited and pathetic account of the trials 
of a New York lady, who, in consequence of a promise wrung 
from her by her father, is put into relations with her husband 
which are almost uuprecedented. The chain of circumstances 

by which the husband is implicated in a crime and the heroic 

» 

efforts of the wife to traverse this chain and unravel the mystery 
make a history of overpowering interest. 

F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE LITTLE COUNTESS 


BY 

E. VON DINCKLAGE, 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 


By S. E. BOGGS. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WARREN B. BA VIS. 


12mo. 318 Pages. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 

“ The Little Countess ” is a delightful novel. It is full of life 
and movement, and, in this respect, is superior to most transla- 
tions from the German. It is distinctly a story to be read for 
pure enjoyment. The little countess belongs to an ancient and 
noble family. She is left an orphan in a lonely old castle, with a 
few servants and pets. Her heroic temper sustains her in every 
trial. The part played by an American girl in the story is very 
amusing, and shows what queer ideas are entertained of American 
women by some German novelists. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE LEDGER LIBRARY 


1. — HER DOUBT/E LIFE. By Mrs. Har- 

riet Lewis. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

2. — UNKNOWN. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. 

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3. — GUNMARER OF MOSCOW. By 

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4. — 3IAUI) MORTON. By Major Alfred 

R. Calhoun. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 
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5. — THE HIDDEN HAND. By Mrs. E. 

D. E. N. Southworth. Cloth, $1.00 ; 
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6. — SUNDERED HEARTS. By Mrs. Har- 

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7. — THE STONE-CUTTER OF LISBON. 

By Win, Henry Peck. Cloth, $1.00; 
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8. — LADY KILDARE. By Mrs. Harriet 

Lewis. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

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12. — A LEAP IN THE DARK. By Mrs. 

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13. — HENRY M. STANLEY. By Henry 

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14— THE OLD LIFE’S SHADOWS. By 
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15. — A MAD BETROTHAL. By Laura 

Jean Libbey. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 
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16. — THE LOST LADY OF LONE. By 

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18. — FOR WOMAN’S LOVE. By Mrs. E. 

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21. — PARTED BY FATE. By Laura Jean 

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22. — THE FORSAKEN INN. By Anna 

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23— OTTILIE ASTER’S SILENCE. 

Translated from the German, By Mrs. 
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24.— EDDA’S BIRTHRIGHT. By Mrs. 
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25— THE ALCHEMIST. From the French 
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26. — UNDER OATH.— An Adirondack 

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27. — COUSIN PONS. From the French of 

HonorS De Balzac. Cloth, $1.00 ; 
paper, 50 cts. 

28. — THE UNLOVED WIFE. By Mrs. E. 

D. E. N. Southworth. Cloth, $1.00; 
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29. — LILITH. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. South- 

worth. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

30. — REUNITED. By A Popular Southern 

Author. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

31. — MRS. HAROLD STAGG. By Robeit 

Grant. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

32. — THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. Trans 

lated from the German by Mrs. D. M. 
Lowrey. Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. 

33. — THE NORTHERN LIGHT. Trans- 

lated from the German of E. Werner. 
Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

34. — BERYL’S HUSBAND. By Mrs. Har- 

riet Lewis. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 
50 0 

35. — A LOVE MATCH. By Sylvanus 

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36. — A MATTER OF MILLIONS. By 

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paper, 50 cts. 

37. — EUGENIE GRANDET. By HonorS 

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38. — THE IM PRO V 1 S A TORE. Translated 

from the Danish of Hans Christian 
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39. — PAOLI, THE WARRIOR BISHOP, 

or The Fall of the Christians. By W. 
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40. — UNDER A CLOIJD. By Jean Kate 

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41. — WIFE AND WOMAN. Translated 

from the German by Mary J. Salford. 
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42. — A N 1NSIGNIFI C A N T WOMAN. 

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43. — THE CARLETONS. By Robert 

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44. — MADEMOISELLE DESROCI1ES. 

Translated from the French of Andr6 
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45. — THE BEADS OF TASMER. By 

Amelia E. Barr. Cloth, $1.25 ; paper, 
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46. — JOHN * WINTHR OP’S DEFEAT. By 

Jean Kate Ludlum. Cloth, $1.00'; 
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47. — LITTLE HEATHER - BLOSSOM. 

Translated from the German, by 
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48. — GLORIA. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. South- 

worth. Cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cts. 

49. — DAVID LINDSAY. A sequel to 

Gloria. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. South- 
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50. — THE LITTLE COUNTESS. Trans- 

lated from the German by S. E. Boggs. 
Cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cts. 


THE POPULAR SERIES 


1— THB OUTCAST OF MILAN. A Companion Story to 

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Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

2 — ROliLO OF NORMANDY. By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. Paper 

Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

3— MART SATTERLEE AMONG THE INDIANS. By 

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6— THE GREAT KENTON FEUD. By Capt. Frederick 

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7— LUKE HAMMOND THE MISER. By Wm. Henry Peck. 

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8— THE CONSPIRATOR OF CORDOVA. By Sylvanus 

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9— THE FORTUNES OF CONRAD. By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 

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10 — THE DIAMOND SEEKER OF BRAZIL. By Leon 

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11— THE ROBBER COUNTESS. By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 

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12 — BEL RUBIO. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. Paper Cover. 

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